


None

by theshitartist



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 17:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 96,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19407538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshitartist/pseuds/theshitartist
Summary: No





	1. Chapter 1

Arya I

Chapter Summary

Arya is forced face to face with her past and Bran drops so very important information on everyone.

ARYA

Her heart was racing. It only ever did that when she was fighting. But now, about to come face to face with her past she couldn’t help the shaking in her hands and the way her heart nearly leaped from her chest. Not since she last saw him had she actually felt this way. Not since he’d called her M'lady. She stood abruptly and turned to leave the hall, aware that everyone was watching her go even as she heard the door on the far side of the room open once more. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the wood, waiting to hear if it was really him.

“Your grace,” she heard echo into the hall and the scraping of a chair.

“I’m glad to see you made it to Winterfell alive,” Jon, ever the capable leader, greeted him. “Won’t you join us?”

“I don’t wanna intrude,” he said finally, a tinge of something different to his voice this time. But she listened as Jon insisted that he join them and wondered exactly what his relationship with Jon was. Were they friends? Was Jon aware they knew one another? Did he know any of it?

“What are you doing?”

She looked up to see Sansa and Brienne both looking at her oddly and she pushed away from the door. “Nothing. I’m going to the Godswood.”

“Not for prayer,” Sansa said as she walked past them. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. I just want to be alone, to practice with my sword. Seems that’s the only place one gets peace around here anymore.”

She didn’t meet her sister’s eyes but left the castle as quickly as she could and into the canopy of trees. Of course, not even here was alone as Bran sat at the base of the tree and he looked over at her as she approached. “I haven’t seen you run away from something in a very long time,” he remarked.

“I wasn’t running away.”

Bran simply looked over at her, his expression the same. No emotion, hardly any recognition of the boy he’d once been. “Jon doesn’t know you knew each other,” he says finally. “Gendry didn’t tell him.”

“Shut up, Bran,” she said as she sat on the bench facing him. “There are some things you can leave out and not say.” This seemed to be a new concept for Bran as he tilted his head and examined her.

They both grew silent and she watched as his eyes grew white. It unnerved her to see him do this, as he had only done it a handful of times in front of her. His gasp filled the air and his eyes turned to her and it frightened her that there was raging emotion there. His expression was grave as he spoke. “You need to take me inside. I need to speak with Jon. Now,” he said, and the tone of his voice left little room for her to argue. She marched behind him and began pushing him to the hall. As they entered, she glanced at the table and could feel his eyes on her.

“They’re coming,” Bran said aloud to the room. “Eastwatch has fallen, the wall has fallen. The dead march towards us.”

The room was silent and Arya looked at Jon and could see the panic in his eyes. He stood suddenly and leaned over the table. “How far?”

“They’re five days. There’s more. The Night King...he’s on a dragon.”

At this, Daenerys stood, her pale skin growing even more so with the news. “My dragon?” she questioned and Arya knew the answer before Bran even spoke.

Bran nodded. “He's fast. Faster than yours. I think it's the magic. He breathes blue flame.”

Daenerys leaned over the table, the usually straight faced queen looked on the verge of a meltdown and Arya actually felt bad for her. She's heard that Daenerys considered the dragons her children. But this was worse than losing a child. This was learning your child was being used as an instrument of evil.

Arya could feel eyes on her and realized that Gendry was staring at her and it actually made her skin itch. She was elated he was alive, obviously, but he made her feel things that she wasn't prepared to feel. And after what Bran had just told them, it seemed a cruel twist of fate to bring him back into her life to destroy everything and not give her the chance to be different. Gendry made her feel different.

But all her training had told her that emotions were dangerous. Feeling things for people could lead to bad decisions. It made a person unfocused. That's what was happening to her now. Only when Daenerys stormed from the hall, Jon and Tyrion on her heels did she realize others were leaving. One of the men came to take Bran back to the Godswood while everyone else but Gendry and Arya left the room.

“I'm...glad you're alive. I thought you might have been killed by the red witch.”

He continued to stare at her and though she wanted to look away, she couldn’t break her eyes from his. “It wasn't because she didn’t try.”

“How did you escape?”

“Ser Davos released me.”

She stepped forward and tilted her head as she examined him. His hair was shorter, he looked thinner, but he was still the stubborn bull she remembered so fondly. “I suppose that's a long story.”

“Probably as long as the one regarding how you got your sword back.”

Needle. He would remember. She looked down at the hilt of her sword and then back at him. She noted the hammer that leaned against the table and nodded at it. “Took your love of hammers to new heights.”

Gendry reached back and lifted it. She could tell it was heavy but he lifted it with ease and practice. She stepped forward and held her hand out and he handed it over willingly. It was heavier than she expected, but she could feel that it was weighted well and knew that if someone swung it at an enemy and they were hit they would not get up easily. She noted the stag on the pommel near the head and furrowed her brow. “A stag? Not a bull?”

“In honor of my father,” he said softly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Have a reunion with the man?”

He frowned and shook his head. “No. He's dead. But I know who he is and who I am.”

“Who are you?”

“The son of Robert Baratheon. That's why the red witch wanted me. King’s blood.” He sighed and looked at the floor then back at her. “That's why when Davos found me in King's Landing again and took me to meet Jon, I went without question. It's why I wanted to fight with him.”

Arya felt a war within herself as she looked down at the hammer. She was so happy to see him, but for some reason, she also wanted to use his hammer to sweep his legs and pounce on top of him with her knife to his throat. Especially when faced with how quickly he ran to join Jon. “Why Jon and not Robb?”

Gendry I

Chapter Summary

Gendry and Arya's reunion finally happens and Jon and Daenerys are no longer at Winterfell.

Chapter Notes

Two chapters today.

GENDRY

Because Jon knows what it's like to be a bastard. “I didn't go with you to your brother Robb because I didn't want to serve any king. I thought the Brotherhood was the solution to that.” She frowned and her expressive eyes made him feel raw and exposed. He'd hope to see her again but never trusted in the hope that swelled in his chest when he met Jon. “That didn't work out well.”

“Not for anyone.” She heaved a sigh. “I'm glad you're alive.”

“You too. I never doubted that you were,” he said softly but regretted it as he watched her expression change. “You were always going to survive.”

“I suppose we're similar in that way.”

She handed him his hammer and he held it at his side. “Are you any good?”

He smiled. “Decent.”

“Care to show me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

She smirked. “It's a nice sentiment. That you think you could.”

“A hammer is different than a sword. More force than finesse.”

“Sounds like an excuse.”

“And what if I actually hit you? Your brother has me killed?”

Arya smiled. “Again, it's nice that you think you'll get a hit.”

He shook his head. “I don't want to fight you.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Years, Arya. I haven't seen you in years. The last thing I want to do is fight with you, of all people.”

She was silent for a moment. “Maybe I want to fight you. Maybe I want to hurt you for choosing the Brotherhood over me.”

“I didn't choose them over you.”

“I wanted you to go with us. I wanted you to help Robb and you...”

He stepped forward, frustrated that she didn't understand. “I said ‘no’ because I didn't want to intrude on your family. I didn't want to watch you eventually become a true Stark lady and marry some high-born Lord who would never appreciate you.” He turned his eyes from her and hoped she understood without him having to say it. “You offered to be my family but we both know that wasn't realistic. I was a bastard and you were a high-born out of reach.”

She shook her head. “You're so stupid,” she said frustrated. “I'm never going to be a lady like Sansa. I don't want that. I've never wanted that.”

“It was different then. You were going to be reunited with your family and I would have been the bastard smith that was reaching for something he could never have. And there was the small fact that you were still quite young...”

“What's your excuse now?”

“I don't have one.”

She hesitated for a moment and then did something truly unexpected, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You don't get to choose my path for me,” she whispered. He dropped the hammer to the ground beside him and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You don't get to leave me again.”

He closed his eyes and breathed her in. “As M'lady commands.”

She turned her head towards his ear. “Call me that again and I'll gled you and you can join the Unsullied.”

He squeezed her a bit tighter and smiled against her shoulder. “A tragic end that would be.”

She pulled away from him but didn't release him. “You didn't tell Jon you knew me.”

He furrowed his brow and voiced the question now roaming through him. “How did you know that?”

“Bran. He told me. He can see...everything. Why didn't you tell him?”

“Because I couldn't tell him what happened to you,” he explained. “I knew you were alive, I just didn't know where to find you. The Boltons had Winterfell...”

“I was in Braavos.”

He shook his head. “A long story?”

“Very.”

“You'll tell me?”

“We'll have time. You're not leaving me again.”

He shook his head. “No, I'm not.”

She shrugged and released him. “Then I'm in no hurry to tell you.”

He smirked. “Until then?”

“You're going to show me what you can do with your hammer.”

His eyes met hers again and the look she gave him was challenging. She wasn't the little girl he'd known and had confusing feelings about. She was a woman and one who seemed to know what she wanted without hesitation. “I'm not fighting you.”

She nodded. “You made that clear. But you can still show me the balance and form.”

He lifted the hammer and followed her out of the hall and into the courtyard. They came upon Brienne and Poddrick sparring and Pod once again ended up lying face down on the ground as Brienne had tripped him and tagged his back with her sword. Gendry stared at the largest woman he'd ever seen and watched as she repeatedly bested the squire.

Arya sighed. “Widen your stance,” she instructed.

It was only a few moments that Arya and Gendry were watching when he felt the presence of two others standing behind them. Arya turned and faced them, her expression grave. “Jaime Lannister.”

Pod managed to get a hit on Brienne as she turned to look at Jaime, and he took three huge steps back and dropped his sword, realizing that the woman would put him into the snow again. Instead, she moved over to Jaime. “Ser Jaime.”

“I need to speak to the Queen,” Jaime insisted and Gendry watched as something passed between the large woman and the famed knight.

The man beside Jaime moved over to the squire and smiled. “Are you ever not getting your ass kicked?”

“Squires life.”

“The Queen isn't here,” Brienne announced, and all eyes were on her once more.

Arya frowned. “What do you mean?”

Brienne frowned. “After what Bran told them about the dragon, she climbed on the great black one and flew over the wood.”

“And Lord Snow?” Jaime asked.

At this Brienne straightened and glanced at Arya. “He took the green one and went after her.”

*~*


	2. Chapter 2

ARYA II

Two hours later found the group on horses riding away from Winterfell. They came to the tree line and Jon climbed from his horse, the rest of the group following suit. Arya stayed close to her brother, not trusting one of them to not try to kill him.

“We’ll stagger the Unsullied,” Jaime started and looked at one of the builders responsible for shoring up the defenses of Winterfell. He walked several paces away from the treeline and looked to Jon and Daenerys. “The first moat of fire should be far enough from the trees, so we don’t ignite the forest but far enough from the keep to allow those that are mounted to be better able to move.” He took the shovel the builder had in his hand, “Start here,” he said and plunged the Shovel into the nearly frozen ground. “You’ll probably need more than shovels to dig. Axes to break the frozen ground.”

Jon moved twenty feet closer to the keep and looked back at them. “This wide,” he said and another shovel was plunged into the ground where he stood. “We need men working day and night.”

“How much pitch do we have?” Jaime asked.

“Bear Island has stores of it, your grace. I can have a raven sent to bring all we can,” Lyanna Mormont offered. Arya liked this little girl. She saw much of herself in the determined gleam in her eyes and smiled.

Jon nodded at her and Lord Manderly then, “I’ll have my men bring our stores as well.”

“How many barrels?”

Lyanna’s advisor whispered into her ear and she announced, “Eighty from Bear Island.”

“Fifty from White Harbor.”

Sansa tilted her head and looked around at the group and spoke next. “We have our own stores as well. Thirty-seven was the last count done,” she offered.

Jaime frowned. “That’s not enough.”

“No, but it’s a start. Can we have more of it made in that time?” Jon questioned.

“With the right amount of manpower and materials, that should be easily accomplished,” Davos offered. “With the stores that we have and the ones we have five days to make?” He looked to Jon, questioning the number of days. Off Jon’s nod, he continued, “We should be able to double the amount we have now.”

Tyrion spoke up then and turned to the Queen. “Your dragons will be the ones that will have to light the fires.”

“My dragons are well up to the task,” she answered. At that moment, Rhaegal flew overhead followed by Drogon. They landed near them, causing the group to duck at the large shadows that fell to the ground. Daenerys walked towards them and Arya followed her.

“How do you command them?” Arya asked as they grew closer to the two beasts. The black one was considerably larger than the other. Their scales almost seemed to shine in the sunlight.

Daenerys looked over at her and back to the dragons. “It depends. They’re easier to control if they’d eaten recently. They only respond to High Valyrian.”

Arya scoffed. “Jon does not speak High Valyrian.”

She looked over at Arya. “Yes, I gathered that.”

“I’m sorry about your other dragon,” Arya said softly. “I’ve lost family as well.”

Daenerys frowned. “Both of us have lost brothers, our mothers, and our fathers. Let’s hope we don’t lose anyone else.”

“This is war, your grace. Loss is expected.” She saw Daenerys stop as the black dragon moved closer and nuzzled her with his snout. She smoothed her hand over him and he eyed Arya. She turned her eyes from the dragon and to the dragon queen who was actually watching Jon. “Jon said you’re going to take the Iron Throne together. How is that going to work, exactly?”

Daenerys sighed and dropped her hand from the dragon. “Not that I’ve discussed it with him at length, simply a mutual understanding that we want to be at one another's side as equals.”

“So, marriage, then?”

Daenerys nodded and smiled at Arya. “Yes.”

“Why do you have to get married?” she questioned. “If you’re going to make a new world, don’t you make the rules?”

Arya watched the surprised expression on the other woman’s face, but then her smile. “I suppose we do. However, considering my claim on the throne and Jon’s, it would be easier for loyalties to us not to be divided.”

She watched the Dragon Queen as she moved over to the green dragon and pet him in the same way did the first. She moved closer and sighed. “You love him. Jon, that is.”

Daenerys seemed interested in her hand moving over the scales of her dragon and then turned to Arya. “I do. I haven’t said as much to him, though, I think he knows.”

“That’s why you went after him North,” Arya said with an understanding tilt of her head. “But you weren’t together.”

“No,” Daenerys admitted. “I don’t think even I realized I loved him. At least not then.”

“When?”

Daenerys frowned and she looked over at Jon who was speaking with Lord Manderly and Lord Glover. Arya glanced at her brother and then back at the dragon queen. “When I saw what he would do to protect people. What he would give up.”

“His life,” Arya said softly. “He’s always been destructive, that way.”

Daenerys chuckled and nodded. “His men killed him, his bannermen turned their backs on him when he needed them to take Winterfell, and he came south to see a Dragon Queen to make her understand that they needed to join forces.” She looked over at Arya and smiled. “How could I not fall in love with that man?”

“Sansa accused me of loving Jon more than her,” she rolled her eyes. “My sister has a flair for the dramatic sometimes. But I’ve felt an affinity for Jon because I felt like an outcast, too. I never thought there would be anyone who would deserve him. But I suppose if there had to be someone, it would be the Mother of Dragons.”

Daenerys smiled and looked at Arya. “Thank you. And since you’ve been very honest and open with me, let me ask you a question.” Arya nodded. “What is your relationship with Gendry?”

Arya turned her eyes from Daenerys to the dragon. “There is no relationship. We knew one another years ago.”

“There’s more to it than that, though,” Daenerys said with a smile. “At least, on your part.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s my job as a queen to notice these things. You also quickly left the room when he arrived.”

She sighed and frowned. “He didn’t tell Jon we knew one another. I needed time to process that he was alive. For years I thought he was dead and I simply needed to get over him.”

Daenerys tilted her head at the younger girl and frowned. “It’s easier to say than to do; get over someone you love. I didn’t think after the Khal I would ever find someone I could love again.”

Arya was confused. She had heard Daenerys say that the Khal had hurt her, raped her. Yet she loved him? Sansa had been raped as well, but she fed Ramsay Bolton to his own dogs. “He raped you, though.”

She nodded. “He did. But...it's more complicated than that. It was difficult for me when I was sold off by my brother to Drogo. Viserys wanted Drogo’s army, a full Khalasar. He would do anything to get his army and he didn’t care how much it hurt me or what I wanted.” She paused for a moment, her silver hair whipping in the wind and looked at the tents that sat on the land of the North. Dothraki tents. “I don’t think Drogo was ever cruel to me on purpose. Dothraki don’t know another way other than to mount women like animals. I had a decision to make as to whether I was going to be a victim or I was going to rule, be the Khaleesi I was meant to be. I got some helpful advice on how to tame my husband and I fell in love with him in the process.” She looked at Arya then. “And a witch killed him.”

“What did you do?”

“I burned her alive,” she answered. “I put my dragon eggs into his funeral pyre, tied her to it, and I walked into the fire with my husband. When it all burned away, she and he were gone, but in their place, I had my children. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viscerion.”

“Why would you name one of your dragons after your brother that sold you?”

She hesitated for a moment and then sighed. “For so long it was just Viserys and I. And as much as I hated him, I loved him, too. He was my brother and for a very long time, the only family I had.”

“Now you have Jon.”

She smiled and looked over at the King in the North who was approaching them. “And now I have Jon,” she agreed.

“Davos spoke with Gendry. He’s recruited men to help him build the Scorpions based on the drawings Bronn and Jaime provided.”

“Do you think he could have four of them built in that amount of time?” Daenerys asked.

Jon smiled weakly. “If he can run back to Eastwatch and get word to you, I’m willing to give him some faith.” He turned and looked at Arya. “A word?” Jon asked and Arya followed him away from Daenerys who moved back to Tyrion and Jaime as they stood to examine the landscape of where the battle would take place.

“How do you know Gendry?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious that I did.”

“When you left this morning, I didn’t think anything of it. But the look on his face when he saw you enter with Bran, and the one on yours, told me you knew one another.”

“A long time ago.”

He looked uncomfortable with the conversation and Arya almost laughed at how it seemed to pain Jon to ask a question. “In what...way?”

She smiled then, unable to control it. “Gendry never touched me. Do you think he would have hands if he did?”

Jon nodded and smiled. “I hear you’re formidable with your sword.”

Arya shrugged. “I hear you came back from the dead. How true is that?”

“True,” he said and looked at the ground.

“I hope you killed the traitors.”

He nodded and whispered. “I did. You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

She nodded and looked at Daenerys. “Yes, we do. How is it that the former bastard of Winterfell not only became King in the North but also the lover of the Queen of Dragons?”

“I didn’t realize it was so obvious that I was,” he parroted back.

She smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding it. Both of you. Chasing after her when she learned of her dragons fate, you’re going to rule the Seven Kingdoms together, and the longing looks you keep giving one another are a dead give away. I’m sure anyone who has been around the two of you for longer than a few minutes has sussed it out. Sansa and I did when you first arrived.”

He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how comfortable I am with my sisters discussing my love life behind my back.”

Arya’s smile turned wicked. “We can discuss it in front of you if you like.”

He paused and chuckled. “Behind my back is fine. What of Gendry?”

She asked defensively, “What of him?”

“You want him guarding your back in the courtyard. You trust him and I get the feeling that you don’t trust anyone anymore.”

She shrugged. “He earned my trust a long time ago.”

“How did he do that?”

“He saved my life a time or two. Protected me when I didn’t think I needed protecting.”

He furrowed his brow. “He seems to be a good man.”

“He is. Second to only one I know,” she answered.

Jon and Arya began walking back to the group, allowing the moment to hang between them. Her affection for Jon had been clear throughout the years they grew up together. He was always the one to treat her with respect and knew of her longing to be a knight. It’s why he had Needle made for her, always encouraging her to pursue what made her happy and not allow the fact that she was a girl to hinder her. Arya didn’t think he ever thought she would become the faceless man that she was, but she also didn’t see him questioning it.

“Queen Daenerys is going to ask the Dothraki to help dig the trenches,” Tyrion told Jon as he and Arya joined them.

Jon nodded. “Do you think they will?”

Jorah smiled. “Dothraki will do as their Khaleesi commands.”

They all began walking back to their horses and Jaime looked at Daenerys. “How did a Targaryen end up the Khaleesi to a horde of Dothraki screamers?”

She stopped walking and they all did as well. She looked over at Tyrion, and Jorah, but settled on Jaime. “I burned all the Khals alive and walked out of the fire,” she said, her tone leaving no guess that she was being honest.

“All the Khals?”

“And their blood riders,” Jorah provided. “I was there to witness it. The Dothraki serve the Queen of Dragons, the Unburnt. She walked out of the flames and they bent the knee to her then and there.”

“The Unsullied,” Arya asked?

They arrived back at their horses and Jorah began speaking. “She tricked the master of Astapor. Promised him a dragon slave in exchange for his eight thousand Unsullied. It’s how she also acquired Messandie, as she was Kraznys mo Nokloz's interpreter. Little did we all realize that it wasn’t just words or phrases that the queen knew of High Valyrian. She speaks it fluently. She heard everything that cretin said, and none of it had been kind. When the Unsullied were hers, she ordered them to kill all the masters, and Drogon roasted the Astapor soldiers alive.”

“You burn a lot of people,” Jaime commented.

“Only those who deserve it,” she said as she climbed onto her horse and looked at Jaime. “Try not be someone who deserves it, Ser Jaime,” she said before she took her horse and rode off to Winterfell.

  
Arya smiled and followed behind her with Jon and the others.

*~*

She walked down the stairs and stopped outside the cracked door of the hall, leaning against the stone at hearing men laugh. From the voices, she could make out it was Sandor, Tyrion, Podrick, Bronn, Beric and Tormund. They all sounded disgustingly drunk. Men and their ales.

“How is it that you were married to Sansa Stark and you never fucked her?” Sandor asked, nearly slurring his words.

Tyrion spoke. “Because I don’t believe in forcing a woman who is repulsed by me.”

“He also had a whore on the side. Rather daring to have her as your wife’s maid,” Bronn retorted.

“How did the subject get turned to me when we were discussing Podrick and his magic way of making whores give away their cunts for free?” Tyrion asked.

The room was silent and then Sandor’s voice sounded. “This fucker?”

“That fucker,” Bronn answered. “As a reward for saving Tyrion’s life at Blackwater, he bought three of the best whores in all King’s Landing for young Pod. And the man brought all the gold back.”

Tormund’s voice sounded this time. “You got a magic cock, boy?”

“More like our young Podrick is proficient at the Lord’s Kiss, wet and glorious as it is,” Tyrion said to which a few laughed, one of which was the Hound.

“Three separate women?” The hound asked. Podrick, however, remained silent. “How do you know any of this is true?”

Bronn’s voice sounded. “I fucking asked them! You think I would take anyone’s word for that?”

“Arya,” she heard behind her and turned to find Brienne and all the men in the other room went silent. “What are you doing?”

“I was...going to the kitchens. Gendry hasn’t eaten,” she said as she opened the door and strode passed the men in the room and she knew Brienne had entered behind her as Tormund stood and offered her a smile. She hid her own, thinking that the Wilding might be well suited to Brienne of Tarth.

*~*

Arya moved into the forge and found Gendry bending a piece of metal across his anvil. His true name could make him more if Jon or Daenerys would legitimize him. None of it mattered to her anyway. He was Gendry. Her Gendry. She didn’t know why she felt so possessive of him. She hadn’t seen him in years, and though she had admitted to Sansa that she had once loved him, she wasn’t sure how it was possible to still feel that way after all this time.

Gendry confused her. There were times that he would look at her and she would feel flushed throughout her neck and face. Some sort of twinkle in his ever blue eyes and she was lost to the look of him. Feeling such as these were dangerous. Nothing was more dangerous than love and lust. Even hatred and anger could be curved into something useful when it came to taking a life. Love made you want to change because how could anyone love such a monster that could so ruthlessly kill?

“Shut the door,” he said, his back to her as he had turned to put the point back into the fire. “Wind’s going to cause the fire to die,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder at her. She did close it and moved to the bench near the table where he worked. There were ten other identical spears on a rack beside the wall.

She thought he would probably work through the night. Arya reached into the bag at her hip and placed a wrapped loaf of bread on the table for him as well as a cask of wine. “I thought you might be hungry. You weren’t in the hall for dinner.”

He used a cloth and wiped the tip of the spear off and then set it beside the others. He rolled his shoulders and then stretched them over his head, causing the bottom of his tunic to ride up just enough to give her a view of the muscles of his abdomen and she flashed to when she’d been a child and watched him forge swords without his shirt on. She’d been only a girl, but even then she knew what a beautiful man he was. He’d been covered in soot, his hair sticking up in every direction as he eyed his handiwork while she eyed him.

“I don’t know how you lived in the North for so long. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be warm again,” he commented as he tore a chunk of the bread off and then took a bite.

She sat on his workbench and opened the cask of wine and held it out to him and he took it gratefully. “The South was too warm for me,” she commented. “You didn’t hear me bitching about it.”

“If one more person accuses me of whinging or bitching I’m going to use one of these bloody spears to end their life.”

She smiled. “We’ve been through this, you can’t take me.” He chewed the bite in his mouth and didn’t say anything but the look on his face told her he wanted to. Instead, he stared at her hands which were folded in her lap and another drink of wine. “How much more are you going to make?”

“Until I’m out of materials,” he responded, but he put his back to her again. “Never know how many shots it will take to bring a dragon down. We start on the Scorpions in an hour.”

“Right person on the weapon and it shouldn’t take that many spears, right?”

Gendry turned to face her. “I don’t know. I know that the big black dragon was hit on a field of battle and still managed to destroy the weapon that struck it and nearly killed Jaime Lannister. It hardly stopped flying,” he responded. “But then, beyond the wall, one of them fell. All of this is over my head and station,” he commented.

She heard the bitterness in his tone and decided to question him on it. “What does that mean?”

He sighed. “I’m back to being a smith.”

“Davos suggested you and your skills. I agreed with him. Thought your skill was the one they needed...”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? My only contribution to this world is making weapons. Not wielding one.”

She sighed this time and shook her head. “You’re being stupid. If they really thought that, why would they put you in the courtyard with me when the fighting starts?”

“Because of you, I’m sure. Did you give them the chance to argue?”

She paused and realized she hadn’t. How was it he was still able to read her and her intentions so well? “No, because it’s a good plan. Who would watch my back better than you?”

Gendry leaned against the bench and frowned. “No one.”

“Exactly. And if Jon only thought of you as a smith, do you think he would allow me to sway his decision on who would be there with his sister?” She smiled. “Jon thinks more of you than what you think of yourself.”

“He’s a good man.”

“I’d been telling you that for years.”

He winced. “All of this goes back to how can someone so small be such a pain in my ass,” he asked? Though he sounded annoyed, he didn’t do a very good job of keeping the smile off his face. He lifted his smithing hammer and heaved another block of dragon glass onto the bench, causing her to move over a bit, putting her closer to where he’d be standing once he began working. She reached for the loaf and pulled another piece off and held it out to him and he took it from her and popped it into his mouth as he stood beside her and reached for his chisel.

“Jon and the queen are sleeping together,” she blurted, unsure of why she told him.

He put the hammer onto of the piece of stone and looked over at her. He sighed and tilted his head. He didn’t look surprised, though. “Are you unhappy about this?”

Arya shook her head. “No. I like Daenerys. She’s exactly what I always pictured a Targaryen princess to be. Fierce. Commanding. A dragon,” she finished and then looked at her hands. “Though, she is shorter...”

“So, what’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked at him, tilting her head and wondering exactly what his reaction would be to the next part. “Sex.”

Gendry blinked at her for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m not doing it. I’m not having a conversation with you about sex .”

She furrowed her brow as he turned away from her and grabbed a heavier hammer. “Why?”

He leveled a glare at her, but it answered none of her questions. She couldn’t talk to Sansa about it as she already smirked and smiled at Arya every time Gendry was mentioned. Her sister thought it was a great new sport to see how red Arya’s ears could turn when Gendry was caught watching her. She contemplated ‘sheep shitting’ Sansa’s bed again for retribution.

“For one, it’s not appropriate. You’re a lady, whether you like to acknowledge it or not. I’m a bastard, of a king, yes, but as of this moment, I’m a smith working on weapons for your brother . The true King. Second,” he heaved a sigh, “I don’t want to talk about sex with you. It’s strange and I don’t want to.”

“First,” she mocked, “I realize I’m a Lady, I just hate being one. And I know who you are and I don’t need a reminder about that either. And second, who else am I supposed to talk to? Pod?”

“No!” he huffed out a breath. “Arya, can’t you find a...female?”

“Who? Sansa? She was raped by Ramsay Bolton and won’t even talk about all the things that happened to her, so she’s out. Brienne? She’s as much a maid as I am, so no help there. The dragon queen, maybe? She is, after all, the one fucking my brother. I suppose I could talk to her...”

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the face. “Please stop.”

“Why?”

He hung his head. “Arya, how is it that everyone else in this keep understands about...Everyone already thinks that we had an inappropriate relationship. If someone overheard our conversation it would make it worse.”

“Why do you care what they think about you?”

He shook his head, exasperated. “I don’t! I care what they think about you!”

“You’re going to have to explain better.”

He released her and stepped back. “Get out.”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Not until you explain yourself.”

“The fact that I have to explain myself is part of the problem,” he said through gritted teeth.

She hung her head, unable to hide her frustration. “You’re my only friend. The only person, besides Jon, that I feel like doesn’t judge me for who I am. I came to you because I thought you would be understanding.”

He tossed the hammer onto the bench beside her and hung his head as well. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

Her gray eyes met his blue ones. “You don’t mind me asking?”

“I mind a great deal, but I won’t have you run off angry with me or with questions and have you ask or say something to the wrong person for someone to take advantage of how little you know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one touches me unless I want them to,” she responded. “But I do have questions.”

“I’ll answer what I can, I suppose,” he said, though his tone told her he didn’t want any part of this conversation.

“What’s the Lord’s Kiss?”

Gendry pursed his lips together and then shook his head. “No, I was right, I can’t do this,” he said as he lifted his head.

“You once told me to pull my cock out and take a piss, you can’t tell me what the Lord’s Kiss is?”

“I didn’t know you were high born...”

“Again with the lady stuff," she groaned in frustration. "Act like I’m one of the men at the pub. Explain it to me that way.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather explain it to the High Septon,” he said as he braced himself on the table, “Or to your brother, in a hall full of his bannermen, than explain it to you.”

She winced. “Is it bad? Is that why? Does it hurt?”

She thought it was endearing that there was now two matching patches of pink on his cheeks. Whatever it was, it made him uncomfortable. “Alright,” he started, “I need to know the context in which you heard of it?”

“Bronn was teasing Podrick about being the best at the Lord’s Kiss so that whores wouldn’t take his money.”

Gendry furrowed his brow. “Bronn said this?”

“Fine, it was Tyrion. And then there was laughing and Brienne caught me listening to them and they stopped talking once they realized I was there. So, I know this much, it has to do with sex and it’s messy or..wet,” she trailed off and then turned her curious eyes to Gendry who looked nearly the color of the Targaryen’s red dragons on Daenerys’ banners.

“Both, actually,” he grunted. At her prodding look, Gendry swallowed hard. “It’s when...I can’t have you look at me while I tell you.”

“So you want me to close my eyes?”

He sighed. “No, I want you to leave so we can pretend we never had this conversation,” he mumbled. He must have realized she wasn't leaving and he sighed. “Yes. Close your eyes.”

She gave him a critical look but then closed her eyes.

GENDRY II

He was going to hit Podrick squarely with his hammer as soon as he saw him. Bronn and Tyrion, too. And as he watched her, sitting on the bench in the forge, waiting for his explanation, he realized that having her eyes closed did nothing to make this easier. “Alright, so the Lord’s Kiss,” he started, “is...” he hesitated, trying to make it not sound so vulgar, but knew there wasn’t a way. “When a man kisses a woman’s cunt.”

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. “People do that?”

He chuckled. “Aye.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels good,” he responded.

She furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “Have you done it?”

He was silent and wanted to jump into the fire to avoid answering the question. It was a near impossible question to answer as he didn’t know if he would actually be able to form the words. He glanced at her and could see that she was staring at him expectantly. “Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not as much as she did,” he answered.

She frowned. “Then why do it?”

He sighed, wishing to get out of the seemingly endless conversation. “Because she liked it. All of it is easier when a woman is wet down there.”

“And that works for that?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like?”

He groaned and glared at her. “I’m done discussing this.”

She must have realized that she was pushing her luck in getting him to answer questions about this particular subject and so she changed her questioning track. “How many women have you had?”

He lowered his head and then looked at her. “Two.”

“Who were they?” she asked, and there seemed to be a tinge of anger to her voice, but he ignored it. “Did you love them?”

He scoffed. “No. They were just...no one important.”

“They were paid?”

“One was. The other...I don’t want to talk about.”

“So, you’re not as good as Pod?”

He felt his hackles rise at his sexual prowess being compared to the squire of Brienne of Tarth. “Apparently not.”

“Maybe I should ask him...”

“You will not,” he insisted angrily.

“Why won’t I?”

“Arya...”

Arya frowned. “You’ve acted very strangely about this entire thing. We’re friends, why can’t we talk about this and, if not you, then why do you have such a problem with me talking to Pod about it?”

“Because I don’t want you to get the bad idea to have him show you,” he blurted and immediately regretted it due to the look on her face. He put his back to her and used a rag to clean off the head of his hammer and tried to control the anger that threatened to overtake him at the thought of the squire with Arya teaching her all the things that she shouldn’t learn from someone like him. He didn’t hear her climb down from the bench, but suddenly she moved into his line of sight and made him stand up straight to look at her.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t ask him to show me,” she whispered.

“You need to go,” he whispered, his eyes moved from her lips to her eyes and he knew that this was getting into a very dangerous territory.

“Why?” the softly whispered word was nearly enough to break his carefully constructed self-control.

“Because I’m going to get the bad idea to show you,” he said honestly, softly.

She shook her head and smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Your brother would kill me,” he whispered.

“We won’t tell him,” she responded and took the hammer and rag from his hands and dropped them to the ground.

It was hard to breathe with her so close and the feel of her skin against his caused him to swallow thickly. It was unfair of her to taunt him so when he had so little control around her as it was. “Arya...” he warned but she was standing on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Just between us,” she whispered against his lips. What little restraint he had just died a fiery death. He cupped her face in his hands while hers moved over the broad expanse of his back. He backed her to the bench and she pulled him against her harder. His tongue swept against hers and she released a gasp at the same time she thrust her hips against his. He groaned against her mouth and she smiled against his lips.

The door to the forge opened slightly and someone called to someone else, springing Arya and Gendry away from one another. He looked at the door as she moved back to her perch on the bench. It looked to be Bronn and Podrick and Gendry balled his fists at his side for them causing all of this in the first place.

Podrick smiled at both of them, but Gendry couldn’t wipe the scowl from his face. Arya smiled back at the squire which only caused Gendry to scowl harder, clenching his hammer in his fist and tried to convince himself that killing the unarmed squire would be murder and would require a lengthy explanation. Instead, he lifted his hammer and banged it into the rock beside Arya, trying to get a piece he could work with.

Bronn entered behind Podrick and smiled. “How many spears do you have made?”

“Ten,” he answered.

“We need at least ten for each of the Scorpions,” he sighed and picked one up from the rack and examined the sharp tip. “These are well done,” Bronn said after a moment. “A lot of time in the forge?”

“My youth, Ser,” Gendry answered and Arya watched the sellsword.

“My lady,” he said as he nodded his head at her and she rolled her eyes. He wanted both Podrick and Bronn to get out of the forge as he planned to spend the next hour exploring Arya with mouth and fingers and more if she’d let him. Bronn’s words brought him out of such thoughts, though, and he glanced at Arya who seemed none too happy at the interruption either. “I heard you didn’t like being called a lady.”

Podrick interrupted before Bronn could start a fight with the younger Stark girl. “We came because Ser Jaime wanted to know how long it would take to get ten for each weapon?”

“A few days.”

“You have three days,” Bronn answered. “We’ll have to get the Scorpions mounted and test each of them. After that, the dead will be here.”

Gendry sighed and nodded. “I’ll work faster. The other smiths will be here soon to start work on the Scorpions.”

Bronn nodded. “Good man,” he said and then turned to Arya. He looked between Arya and Gendry, then grinned broadly as he looked to Arya. “What is a lady doing in the forge?”

Gendry turned his back to them as he began heating the steel. “I’m speaking with my friend.” He tried to act as if he was uninterested in the conversation, but the truth was he couldn’t stop listening if he wanted to.

“About the fine art of weapon making?” Bronn asked, clearly he didn’t accept her answer and Gendry thought about insisting they both leave. That would be a bit obvious, he thought, and so he remained quiet and turned back to face them.

Arya was having none of his blatant goading. “About how many throats I’ve slit,” Arya said flatly, and Gendry smirked to himself.

“I heard you were a ruthless killer. Maybe you and I can compare notes one day on the finer points of killing a man.”

“Or I could show you the finest point I have,” she said as she showed him her knife.

Gendry was now watching her intently. Arya was deadlier than any person he knew, and if the sellsword rubbed her the wrong way she would kill him. Bronn then chuckled. “I like this girl. I honestly believe she would kill me.”

Gendry moved closer to Arya and faced the sellsword and squire. “She would.”

Bronn smiled. “I think I need an ale. Come along Pod. Let’s see if you can get us a free night at the brothel in town,” he said as he ushered Podrick out of the forge.

Arya suddenly turned her eyes to his. He waited for the door to shut before he stepped between her open legs and put calming hands on both of her knees, his eyes meeting hers. “I have a lot of weapons to make and I can’t have you in here distracting me.”

Gendry watched as she hesitated, her fingers slowly moving over the back of his hands and he shivered in response. Her whispered words only caused his cock to harden more for her, “But what about earlier? You’re not going to second guess that, are you?”

He heaved a sigh and knew that he wouldn’t deny her anything if she asked it of him, nor did he want to, but he did have work that had to be done. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers as he spoke, “Consider it a reward for when I’m finished.”

She smiled slowly and nodded. “I’ll find you,” she said as she hopped down from the bench and walked to the door of the forge. Gendry leaned against the bench and tried to ignore the erection still straining against the front of his leathers. Her words echoed in his head as he could still feel the strength of her thighs beneath his hands. He knew it without question: she was going to be the death of him.

*~*

When the sun started to rise, Gendry truly thought he was going to fall asleep at any moment. He was both mentally and physically exhausted. They’d managed one complete Scorpion and had installed it at the top of one of the towers. Several men had carried up the heavy bolts while he made last minute adjustments to the wheel.

“Is it tight?” Gendry asked from where he was on his knees beneath the Scorpion.

“Aye,” the other called.

“It’s a fine piece of work,” Jaime said as he exited to the tower with Bronn. “Is it ready to test?”

Gendry stepped back as did the other man and held out one of the bolts. Bronn took it from him and slid everything into place. He watched him move the weapon up and down, swiveled it in every direction causing him a moment of panic as the great bolt pointed at his head before it moved away. When Bronn finally fired the weapon, the bolt sailed out to the outer edge of the farthest trench. Bronn and Jaime both looked at Gendry.

“I have to admit, I had my doubts that they could be made so quickly,” Jaime quipped. “This is good work.” Gendry didn’t say thank you. The Lannisters were the ones who sought his death all because his father, the philandering King Robert, got his mother pregnant. No other reason to want him dead. “How many bolts do you have made?”

“Twenty-two. We've had the apprentices working on them throughout the night. Most of the smiths and wood workers are making the Scorpions, though. I need to get back to the forge,” he said as he nodded at the other smith and they left Jaime and Bronn.

However, they weren’t free of them for long and Jaime stopped him once they were in the center of the courtyard. “I’ve heard that you’re one of Robert’s bastards.”

“Aye.”

Jaime was silent and then he continued, “You look like him when he was younger.”

Gendry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’d be careful, my lord. There are a lot of people here who would gladly take your head.”

Jaime tilted his head at him, his eyes narrowing a bit. “Are you one of them?”

He smirked and taunted Jaime. “I don’t use a sword. I prefer a war hammer like my father. I’d simply bash it in,” he threatened.

A voice clearing caused them all to turn and see Arya, her hand on her sword. “Is there a problem?”

Gendry could feel Bronn looking at him with a smile and he nudged Jaime. “Ease off the boy. He’s worked through the night,” he cajoled. “You did good work, lad,” Bronn said as he began leading Jaime away from the youngest Stark girl and what she had clearly claimed as hers.

Gendry nodded to the other smith to go back to the forge and he turned to Arya. “I don’t need you to stick up for me.”

“I wasn’t. But if Jaime stepped out of line, I’d deliver his head to my sister as she wants,” Arya said as she stepped forward.

“Don’t do it on my account,” he said as he started walking back to the forge. “You’re up early.”

She stepped in front of him. “Trouble sleeping.”

“They make tea for that,” he responded.

“It’s your fault.”

His eyebrows rose in question. “How is it my fault?”

She stepped a little closer to him. “You see, ever since our conversation and the kiss, it’s all I can think about.” He turned away from looking at her to see how many people were watching them. He didn’t see any, so he stepped closer. “I think of you touching me, kissing me...and I’m incapable of sleep.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he whispered.

Her smile made him uneasy in the best way. “I like games.”

He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists at his side. “Arya.”

She tilted her head, her expression innocent. “You should really get to work. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll allow you to be distracted from me,” she said as she turned and left him in the courtyard alone. He grunted as he turned and walked back into the forge to see the pieces of the next Scorpion laid out on the floor.

“Three more. Three more,” he muttered. He looked out the window of the forge and saw her mount her horse and ride from the yard. Three more and then there is no excuse or reason for me not to have you.


	3. Chapter 3

Arya III

Chapter Summary

Arya spars with Bronn, has a conversation with the Hound, and...Four.

Chapter Notes

Hello all, I hope you all have a great day! Gendry's chapter is next.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

ARYA

Arya held her blade at Bronn’s throat and he held up both hands, one holding a sword, as she stepped back and they prepared again. He swung at her and she danced from under the sword and then had the tip of Needle pressed beneath his arm and he rolled his eyes. “Where did a little girl learn to fight like you?”

“Do I look like a little girl?” Arya questioned. She realized that the Hound was standing nearby and knew she would eventually have to speak to him. She was still uncertain about her feelings for him. She thought he had died but when she’d seen him she was relieved that he hadn’t. She was feeling too many things these days. She wondered how much it was because her past was finally surrounding her. So many faces and people she had squared off against or had cared for were in the same place at the same time.

“You’re not a lady,” he responded. “You’re a killer. I go back to my question as to where you learned?”

“I’ve had a lot of teachers. Syrio Forel was the first one to teach me how to use a sword. The Hound, though his lesson was more that my sword wouldn’t necessarily penetrate armor, so I had to fight smarter. And the other lessons I took in Braavos.”

Sandor approached them and furrowed his brow. “How did you get to Braavos? This after you left me to die?”

Bronn looked at Arya. “You bested him?”

She shook her head and smiled. “Brienne of Tarth.”

“Knocked me down a cliff.”

“And you lived?” Bronn questioned.

“She let me,” he said looking at Arya. “I still haven’t decided if I want to kill you for that or not. Could have ended my misery then and here.”

Arya frowned. “I took you off my list. Don’t put me on yours,” she said softly.

“Oh, don’t want me dead anymore?”

She shook her head. “No. Most of the ones I want dead are.”

Bronn furrowed his brow. “What list?”

Arya looked at the Hound and he gave a half smile. “The little wolf has a list of names of people she’s going to kill. One of them is in this castle.”

“Who?”

Arya eyed the sellsword and frowned. “Not you.”

“Jaime?” Bronn asked, curious if his benefactor would need protecting.

She shook her head. “No, the Lannister head I want still sits on the throne in King’s Landing.”

“Good luck with that, girl. The Mountain would never let you near her.”

“He’s on there, too.”

“You don’t get to kill him,” Sandor said, vehemently. “His life isn’t yours to take.”

“He’s not actually alive. Jaime doesn’t know the specifics, but he’s dead. He’s just up and walking around.” Bronn shrugged. “Something her Hand did.”

Arya contemplated this for a moment. Maybe Sandor would be the person to take with her to finally end Cersei’s life. He would be a good distraction against the Mountain to allow her the time needed to kill the Mad Queen. And that’s what she thought of her. Anyone who would blow up a Sept and kill all of those people was clearly insane. She tilted her head at Sandor and then turned to Bronn.

“Fuck off and let me talk to the little wolf,” Sandor said to Bronn and turned his full attention to Arya.

“I need a drink,” Bronn said as he walked away towards the keep.

They were both silent for a moment and then Arya spoke. “I’m going to kill Cersei.”

“How many lives have you taken now?” Sandor asked, rather impressed by his former abductee.

She shrugged. “Hard to say. I don’t actually know how many were in the Twins when I wiped out the Freys.”

Sandor stared at her for a moment and then smirked. “That was you?”

“The North remembers,” she said softly. “They betrayed my family. None of them could live.”

“They the only ones.”

“No. There are others,” she said softly. “I like it. Killing.”

Sandor nodded. “So do I.”

“I don’t want to anymore. Like it, that is.”

He shrugged. “If you like it, fucking embrace it. Sometimes that can be the only thing that saves you.”

She nodded. “I know. But I think I want to be more than a killer, now. I still plan to kill Cersei, and Jaime if he decides to betray us. And Beric.”

Sandor frowned. “Why Beric?”

“He sold Gendry to the red witch.”

Sandor looked at the ground and she couldn't read the expression on his face. “Before you go taking his last life, maybe you ought to talk to the boy he sold.”

“Why?”

“Maybe he doesn’t feel like Beric should die. At least not at your hands.”

“It’s not up to him.”

“Maybe it should be,” he said before he started walking away.

“You don’t want to fight me?” Arya asked confused.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. “No, little wolf, I don’t want to fight you. I’ll fight beside you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be nice to me, now. I won’t know how to take it.”

He chuckled. “You’re still a fucking pain in the ass.”

She nodded and smiled. “That’s more familiar. I like it.” He gave her a nod and walked off and was stopped by Davos to speak for a moment. The green dragon flew over the keep and she could barely make out two figures on it. She could see the familiar white hair of Daenerys, but the other rider was clearly Jon. She walked outside of the gates and watched as the green dragon landed and then let them both climbed down, Jon’s hand lingering for a bit longer as he extended it to the Dragon Queen. Arya rolled her eyes, not understanding why they felt the need to hide their relationship. Anyone with eyes could see it.

They stood speaking to one another and Arya decided to interrupt before he got the bad idea to throw Daenerys to the ground and truly cause the Lords of the North to question his sanity. She heard them all asking how he could trust the Mother of Dragons. But then someone always chimed in that she had come North, abandoning her fight with Cersei, for now, in order to try to save them. Her armies were the bulk of the fighting force and her dragons were the one factor that could sway all of this to their side. They usually grew quiet after that. Arya knew that they would respect Daenerys more when they actually saw her go into the field to try to protect them all.

She stopped away from the dragons; Daenerys turned to see her and stepped away from Jon, a smile on her face at seeing Arya. They both walked to her and smiled up at her brother. “It’s bizarre to think of you riding a dragon.”

“It’s still strange to be on one,” he answered. “I’m not sure if Ghost would consider it a betrayal.”

Daenerys smiled. “He’s always been good to me,” she said as they began walking back to the keep.

“You haven’t been with him since he was a pup, either,” he said softly and turned to look at Arya. “Sansa told me you saw Nymeria.”

Daenerys looked over at Arya as they entered through the gates. “Who is Nymeria?”

“She was my direwolf.”

“Was?”

Jon frowned sadly as Arya explained how Nymeria had come to no longer be with her. If anything it only made her want to kill Joffrey more. It was a name that had been taken from her. She also told them of her meeting with Nymeria on the road back to Winterfell and she felt a hand on her shoulder and smiled up at Jon. “All of them are gone except Nymeria and Ghost.”

“What they did with Greywind...” she muttered. “I killed the man who did.” Jon and Daenerys both stopped and looked at her. “I was at the Twins that night. The Hound had taken me there to ransom me to Robb. I could hear screaming inside the keep and watched them come outside and slaughter all of Robb’s men. And then Greywind,” she said as she lowered her eyes to the ground. “The Hound knocked me out and we left, and I came to in time to see that they had cut off Robb’s head and put Greywind’s in its place,” she said softly. She looked up at Jon. “I killed that man, the Hound killed the others with him. I want everyone that ever harmed our family to suffer a gruesome death.”

Jon didn’t speak, but Daenerys did. “I understand. I do. It’s hard to control the rage that can fill you when you know your life could have been so different if people had been honorable. I was betrayed when I was in Qarth. One of my maids that I trusted with my life, helped to slaughter my men and one of my dear friends all for riches. They took my dragons. When I got them back, I found her in the bed of the man who had tried to manipulate me into marrying him.”

“Did you burn them?” Jon asked. Arya could see that he didn't necessarily like how Daenerys handled her enemies, but Arya wondered if he judged her harshly or realized that Daenerys did not have the easiest life, and usually did what she thought was right.

She shook her head. “No. I locked them into his empty fault. I trusted her, and she betrayed me. Sometimes, we do horrible things in order to avenge those that we love. It’s easy to let that be the only part of us.”

Arya was silent for a moment and turned to the silver-haired woman. “How do you balance it?”

Daenerys smiled slightly. “It’s difficult. I could have taken King’s Landing the second I got to Westeros and probably only needed one dragon to do it. Too many innocent people would have died and I don’t want to rule solely out of fear. I want people to respect my position. I chose a Hand who challenges me when I want to give in to those impulses, though he does have trouble controlling it at times,” she glanced at Jon. “I know what my father was, and I fear I may become him. But I believe I have enough people around me that love and care for me, that believe in me, that it helps.”

“Are you the right one to rule, then?” Arya thought it was a fair question. If she knew about that part of herself, then maybe she could be objective about whether she was the right person to sit on the throne. There had already been one Mad King and a Mad Queen currently occupied the throne.

She took a deep breath. “Better than Cersei, yes,” her eyes met Jon’s, though, and then she smiled. “But I’ve chosen a King who manages to make me see reason when all I want is to burn the world.” Arya looked over at Jon who continued to stare at the queen. The sound of a Scorpion being shot filled the courtyard and each of them looked up to the final tower to see Gendry loading it again and then climb beneath the machine to make an adjustment. “I hate the thought of those things shooting while we’ll be flying the other two,” Daenerys said.

“Which is why men are being trained on them. We don’t want them to fire at us,” Jon said as they watched Gendry move from beneath the Scorpion and one of the men loaded it and it fired again, this time the sound more pronounced and they watched the spear fly clear over the field, so far, Arya didn't only just saw it land. One of the guards on the wall clapped as the Smith slapped Gendry on the back.

Arya smiled. Four.

*~*

She hadn’t gone to him right away, simply watched as he made his way back into the forge and other men carried groups of spears to the top of the towers. There appeared to be more of ten for each weapon. Arya had only seen Gendry in passing as he didn’t take meals in the hall and she heard he hadn’t slept in his room, but had only managed an hour of sleep in the forge between weapons. She had seen him giving instructions to some of the others as she’d been training with Brienne and Podrick that morning. She thought it was absurd that Gendry thought she would ever let Podrick touch her like she wanted him to. Bronn had only offered to spar with her after Brienne had been called to Sansa’s side.

But now, Arya leaned against the far wall and watched as men moved out of the forge carrying dozens of the bolts needed to load into the Scorpion. Gendry appeared in the doorway to watch them leave and he looked exhausted. Jon approached him and shook his hand. She drifted closer and hid at the corner of the wall to hear their conversation, trying to remain out of eyesight of both men.

“When Davos told me you could do this, I thought you would consider it a slap in the face,” Jon said softly, and Arya understood that her brother was more able to read people than she had thought. “And if you did think of it that way, I apologize. But we needed someone we knew could do the work quickly and would understand that nothing came before this. You’d seen and fought the dead. You, better than anyone, understood the threat that is bearing down on us.” Jon nodded. “We’re forever in your debt.” He heaved a sigh and looked away from Gendry, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. “I suppose Arya has told you the plan for battle? You’ll be in the courtyard with her.”

“Yes, she told me.”

“Arya is more than capable of taking care of herself, but I feel more comfortable having someone there who cares about her to watch her back.” Gendry nodded while Arya wondered where her brother was going with this conversation. “When we met, you told me you were the bastard of Robert Baratheon and that you had met my father once. You never mentioned that you traveled with Arya. Why?”

Gendry furrowed his brow and rubbed a hand over his head. “I don’t know. I wanted to tell you, but the truth is, I was afraid to say her name out loud and be questioned about what happened to her. I didn’t know. I knew I had chosen to not go with her to her brother and she was angry with me. When the Brotherhood sold me, though, I didn’t know what had happened to her after that. I didn’t want to think the worst, because I knew her and her unbelievable ability to survive. But I wasn’t sure what happened to her and I didn’t...none of my reasons really make sense other than it pained me to think about her alone.”

“You care for her more than we know, don’t you?” Jon questioned softly.

“To be honest, Jon, I think I love her,” he heaved a sigh. “For longer than even I knew. But I’m a bastard and she’s a lady. We’re not supposed to be together...”

“And if I legitimized you,” Jon offered? “Would you want that?”

Gendry was quiet and Arya wondered what he would say. She didn’t need him to be a legitimate heir. Other people would want him to be, simply for appearances, but she would never allow his name to keep them from being together if it was what they both wanted. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and clear, “It depends on what she wants.”

They were both silent and Arya found that her heart was near to beating out of her chest. Gendry loved her and Jon would legitimize him so they could be together. She had no desire to marry, but the thought that she could keep Gendry forever made her mouth go dry. “There’s a room waiting for you in the castle with a bath. Anything you want, ask,” Jon told him.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod before Jon walked away and joined Daenerys, Tyrion, Jorah, and Davos as they started out of the gates on horseback this time.

Gendry heaved a sigh and started towards the castle and was greeted by one of the women she’d seen tending to Sansa. She was younger than Sansa, but older than her. And she was pretty. She wondered if Gendry thought so. “I was told by Lady Sansa to escort you to your chambers,” she said softly and turned to lead the way. She didn't like the appraising look on the girl's face as she looked at Gendry. Arya hated her. If she laid so much as a hand on him, she’d remove all of her fingers followed by her hands at the wrist. She followed them to a room and the woman stopped outside the door. “King Jon asked that we have clothing brought in to you. If you’ll leave what you have on outside your door, we’ll have them cleaned and brought to you on the morrow. There's also a meal waiting for you inside.”

Gendry nodded before he walked into the room and Arya ducked down the corridor to avoid the passing woman. She crept down the hall and opened Gendry’s door to find him naked, holding his pants in front of him, a look of irritation on his face. “Seven hells, Arya!”

She closed the door behind her, never taking her eyes from Gendry and the fine line of hair that trailed down his abdomen, the rest of it was hidden beneath his discarded pants that he still used as a shield. She slid the latch into place and shrugged. “I told you I would find you.”

He looked down and swallowed thickly. “Does it have to be when I’m exhausted and covered in soot and ash?” he questioned.

“You have a bath,” she gestured to the tub. “Don’t let me stop you,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt.

“With you in here?” his voice held a soft timber, but she could hear the nervousness behind it.

She smiled slowly. “I’ll wait for you,” she said as she removed the belt from around her waist and placed the knife on the table beside his bed and the sword leaned against it. She turned to face him to find him still watching her. “What’s wrong?”

He looked worried as his eyes drifted to the closed and latched door. “What if your brother decides to come talk to me again?”

“He’s gone out to ride the field with the others. He won’t be back until the sun sets,” she loosened the ties of her cloak and pulled it over her head and she could feel his eyes move along her body. “You should really take your bath,” she said as she sat in the chair beside the tub and removed her boots. She watched as his breathing sped and his eyes became transfixed on her feet, then met her eyes.

“I knew it years ago, but you’re going to be the reason I die,” he muttered and moved to the bath and dropped his pants. She released a pent up breath at seeing him naked in front of her. She’d see him naked before when they’d been on the road. The number of times she’d seen a man’s penis couldn’t actually be calculated. Especially when they thought there were just men in the vicinity. They would whip out their cocks and urinate anywhere. Gendry was included in that, as well. This was nothing like those times.

The trail of hair that started at just below his sternum to move over the rigid line of his belly and encompassed his cock which was sticking straight, bobbing as he moved into the tub. He leaned his head back for a moment as the hot water soothed his aching bones and body. She almost felt bad that she had no intention of letting him rest for long. She’d spent days thinking of Gendry and his calloused hands. The tongue that had tentatively come out to touch her lips she wanted between her folds bringing her to heights of pleasure she’d only recently found with her fingers. She always thought of him and how it would feel if it were his fingers. They were bigger than hers, would probably fill her better. Or his mouth and his sinful tongue to lick her, his hot breath warming the inside of her thighs. He lifted a handful of water to his face and she watched as soot washed into the water. He was dirty and tired and he would be completely hers by the end of the night.

She reached over and handed him soap then began undoing the laces on the front of her jerkin and his eyes were transfixed to her fingers. She tilted her head at him. “I need you clean,” she whispered and nodded to the soap in his hands. He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face. She removed the heavy leather piece and allowed it to hang over the back of her chair as he cleaned the rest of his body, his muscles moving beneath the tight skin. The muscles moved over his shoulders, his neck, and chest; she had thought of little else over the last few days. When she’d see him as she walked past the forge, or snuck inside to speak to him, he was completely lost in thought as to what he was doing. She could see the expanse of muscles in his forearms as he’d rolled up the sleeves of his tunic or had donned the one that had no sleeves but left his arms completely exposed. She had lusted from afar, always where she could see him but not letting him know she was there. His blue eyes were transfixed on his work and her eyes were constantly watching the way his body moved. She wanted it pressed against her and his mouth on hers. She wanted all the naughty things that she knew ladies weren't supposed to want, but she didn't consider herself a lady, so that didn't matter.  
She wanted all of it and she wanted it from him.

She undid the laces of her breeches and slid them over her legs, leaving her in only her tunic and small clothes. He sunk beneath the water came up and shook his head as she’d seen their direwolves do in the past, shaking off the extra water. He opened one eye and groaned. He shook his head and turned his gaze to her fully and licked his lips. Her pulse quickened as he held his hand out to her and she took it. He tugged on her to stand and she stepped closer to him and he stood as well. His wet fingers brushed against her cheek and she slid her hands over his chest and over his shoulders.

  
He tilted her mouth up to his at the same time he pulled her against him. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue sought entrance to hers, somewhat amazed to feel the hard length of him pressed against her. She stepped back, causing him to nearly fall from the tub. He climbed out and began backing her towards the bed, his wet body causing her remaining clothes to stick to her.

He pulled her tunic over her head and despite the cold, she felt warm everywhere. Gendry lifted her to the edge of the bed as if she weighed nothing. She knew he was strong, seen him wield both his war hammer and the one in the forge, but feeling that power around her made her find his lips again. His tongue danced against hers as his hands helped to remove her small clothes. She knew she should probably be shy, hide her body or have some feeling of modesty, but she didn’t. She felt hot and wanted his mouth and hands everywhere.

The kiss was broken when he began trailing kisses along her throat, nipping his teeth against her pulse. She dragged her fingers over his neck, shoulders, and stopped at the start of the faint line of hair on his abdomen. She stroked her thumb through it as he gasped. He lowered his head and took the tip of her breast into his mouth and her body responded by thrusting up towards him. It was her turn to gasp as his tongue flicked over the tip and gooseflesh appeared. He held one hand in the middle of her back and cupped her other breast with his free hand.

She moaned his name, wanting more but not really sure more of what. She wanted him to kiss her again, but she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. She wanted his lips and tongue and fingers at her cunt, but thought she would break apart in his arms if he removed himself from where he was now. When he did pull away from her, she whimpered. But he pushed her back on the bed and his lips began moving lower. She stroked over his head and sighed as he stopped at the three scars on her abdomen. His fingers ran over them and he lifted his head to look at her, concern in his gaze. “What happened?”

“I was stabbed,” she whispered.

“By who?”

She smiled and brought his lips back to her skin. “No one,” she muttered then moaned as he licked each one, her thighs tightening around him until he pushed them farther apart. His hands slid beneath her and she felt his hot breath against her folds. Arya lifted her hips, silently pleading with him to end her agony. When she felt his tongue slide against the slippery folds, her back bowed on the bed, all reason, logic and any other thought flew from her mind. He put a hand on each knee and pushed them flat to the bed, holding her in place. She groaned as he licked the length of her slit and then up to her clit. She felt open and exposed, vulnerable under his mouth and hands. Feeling vulnerable had been a foreign feeling to her. She hadn’t expected it. But for him and the closer she got to the edge, she welcomed it. Only for him.

She felt her body tightening, the feeling of being close to an edge and not quite reaching it. She felt him release one of her legs as his finger moved to her sex. The glide of them against her and the feeling of her body clenching around the finger he slid inside her caused her body to convulse, racked with her climax, his name torn from her lips in a guttural groan. She thrust her hips against his finger, wanting to feel more. He moved his lips back over her abdomen and she could feel the moisture of her cunt on his face. Wet and messy . When his lips settled over the dips of her collarbone and his free hand moved over her breast, she wanted to taste him. She pulled his face to hers and he seemed to hesitate. She wouldn’t let him as her lips claimed his. She swept her tongue into his mouth and it was his turn to moan. He tasted of something slightly salty and she realized it was her on his tongue. Her nails dug into his shoulders and back. She didn’t care if she marked him, in fact, she hoped she did. He was hers. She was his.

He slid a hand beneath her shoulders and the other beneath her hips as he lifted her in his arms and moved her father back on the bed. “More,” her voice rasped against his skin. “I need more.” Her fingers moved between them and grasped his cock in her hands. His mouth found the pulse in her throat and he sucked it and then lathed against it with his tongue.

She felt him move her hands aside and guided him to her entrance. He pulled his mouth from her then and stared down at her. His expression was one of hunger and concern. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Yes. Never more certain.” She cupped his face in her hands again to kiss him. She broke the kiss when he brushed the tip of his cock against her clit, causing an involuntary shiver. The slight smirk on his face nearly caused her to push him to his back and end their torment together until she felt him slip down and thrust forward into her. He shifted and had an elbow pressed to the feather mattress at her shoulders while his hands cupped her face and he kissed her. There was an odd stretching sensation of him filling her, but it didn’t hurt the way she’d heard others talk about it. She expected pain, a lot of it. And when he pulled back and thrust forward again, she did feel it slightly then, but not enough to let him stop.

“Alright?” he asked and she nodded. “Let me know if you’re not. We’ll stop,” he said, though she could hear the strain in his voice.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she responded and dug her nails into his ass. He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes never breaking from hers. His hands cupped her face, bringing her lips back to his. He continued to thrust into her and she whimpered against his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist when he broke the kiss and moved back to her throat and bit along her skin. Her body coiled around his and finally shattered when he licked a path from her shoulder to just beneath her jaw.

She could feel him begin to pull out from her and she shook her head. “No. I’ll have you,” she muttered against his lips.

“Arya...” she could see him begin to protest, but she tightened her thighs around him.

“Moon tea,” was all she said as she grabbed his hips and pulled them forcefully against her. She felt her body tightened around his cock which made him groan from low in his throat and he gave a few more shallow thrusts before he buried his face in her neck and shuddered in her arms.

*~*

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for all the support and I hope you all like this chapter!

Gendry III

Chapter Summary

Gendry and Arya share some moments together until they are interrupted.

Chapter Notes

Thank you, everyone, for your kind support. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Yes, this is sort of fluffy, but come on, need some happy every once in a while.

A/N: Everyone run, don't walk, to the first chapter of this fic and look at the gorgeous piece of artwork that thefuzzyaya did for this fic. I'm speechless and everyone needs to see it!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

GENDRY

He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. If Jon walked into that room right then and told him to get off of Arya or he’d kill him, Gendry would give her one last kiss and welcome death. He knew his weight on top of her was probably crushing her, but she only wrapped her arms around his neck and moved heated kisses along his jaw. She was everything he wanted in one small, fiery package.

They’d marked one another as he knew she’d have a purpling bruise over her throat and only a bit of time would tell the sort of damage her nails had done to his skin. They were the kind of battle scars he wanted.

He felt her lips against his ears and her smile. “Are you alive?”

“Barely,” he responded and laughed. “Do you want me to move?” he asked, wondering where he would find the strength.

“Never,” she whispered. “Let’s stay like this, always.”

He chuckled. “Good way to die, I suppose.”

She shook her head and lifted his so he could look at her. “You don’t get to die unless I say so.”

He smirked and brushed her hair away from her face. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Swear it to me, now,” her smile was teasing and he wondered how he was going to ever be convinced to leave this room. To leave the comfort of her arms.

He shook his head and placed a kiss on her nose, then her chin. “I’m not making a vow I can’t necessarily keep. Have you come after me in the afterlife for not keeping my word?”

She closed her eyes. “I won’t let you go. Not now.”

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip as his hand cupped her face. “You’re possessive,” he whispered after a moment. “I’m strangely attracted to that.”

She grinned. “If we examine this too closely I think we’d both find it to be strange.”

He nodded. “Fair.” He kissed her again and when they pulled away, he managed to roll to his back beside her. The loss of heat from her body caused an involuntary shiver to course through him.

“You were wrong,” she said as she propped her head up on an elbow and traced patterns over his chest with her other hand.

He furrowed his brow, trying not to drift off to sleep. “Not surprising but what exactly was I wrong about?”

She moved closer to him, her mouth hovering just above his ear. “It was a very good idea for you to show me the Lord’s kiss.”

He snorted and looked over at her. “I'm honored, m’lady.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but there was still a hint of a smile on her face. “Do you want me to hit you?”

He laughed and tugged her against him. “Well, you've already scratched my back to hell. Maybe I like your violent tendencies.”

She smiled and grew quiet. She snuggled into the side of him. “Why did you pay women for sex?”

“You want to talk about this now?” He asked and at her nod, he looked down at her. “I only paid one. The other I don't want to talk about,” he said angrily.

She lifted her head. “You're not getting out of the conversation now. What happened?”

He sighed, dreading her reaction, afraid she would laugh at him. It was a source of anger and shame for him. Anger because the woman had found his weakness and preyed upon it, shame because it had left him more damaged than he thought possible. “The red witch. She tied me down to a bed, climbed on top of me and...I was out of sorts. She was seducing me. She only wanted my blood to run hot so she could take it. She used leeches...”

Arya sat up and looked down at him, her gray eyes concentrated on his. “She hurt you,” she said softly.

He frowned. “Took something from me, too. I didn't trust anyone after that, really. Not even Davos, at first. Not until he let me go.”

She furrowed her brow and looked at his chest. He felt her fingers smooth over the first, second, then the third mark left by the leeches. “She's on my list you know. For taking you from me. Beric and Thoros for selling you. Though Thoros is dead, so I suppose I can remove him.”

He captured her fingers in his hand and sighed. A short time ago, he would have relished the thought of someone killing Beric and Thoros. But now that Thoros was dead and knew that Beric was set on fighting against the dead, he felt differently. He knew why they did what they did. He didn’t like it, but he knew the reality of it. They either handed him over willingly, got the gold they needed, or they would have all probably been killed by whatever magic the red witch had. After a moment in which he stared down at their joined hands, he said softly, “Release Beric.”

She shook her head, her eyes hardened. “Why?”

He moved on the bed so he was sitting facing her. “Because I'm asking you to. There's not really a reason that I can explain. I just don't feel like he should die.” He was momentarily distracted by her lean body. He could see faint whisker burns along her abdomen and even vaguely between her thighs. He realized she was still waiting for him to speak, and so he continued. “When I saw him again, I was furious. I wanted your brother to kill them where they stood. But I fought with them beyond the wall, saw Thoros get attacked by an undead bear and Beric cauterize the wound with his flaming sword. I’ve seen what’s coming and we need fighters.”

She seemed to be weighing this and turned her gray eyes back to him. She didn’t agree or disagree with what he said, but instead, changed the subject on him. “You paid the other one?”

At this, he blushed and could feel it moving up his face. “Yes. The nightmare of the red witch wasn't letting me...find relief.” He sighed and propped his arms on his bent knees as she sat facing him on hers. The moment wasn’t lost on Gendry. It was intimate, sharing one of the worst experiences of his life with the one person who meant the most to him. Under normal circumstances, he never would have paid for the services of a woman. But he was truly at a loss of what to do, the memory so clear in his mind. “So, I paid to try and have the memory removed.”

“Did it work?” She asked, no jealousy or anger behind her tone, just curiosity.

He shrugged. “I haven't had a problem with getting off since,” he smirked but her expression changed to one of anger and he was confused by it. “Don't be angry.”

Arya took a deep breath and leaned her chin against his knee. “I am. But not at you.” Her fingers danced over a healed burn on his arm, her eyes fixed on it. When she spoke, her words were soft but clear. “I’m angry at what that witch did to you.”

He ran a hand over his head and pulled her closer to him. “She's not here,” he reminded and tugged at the tie that held her hair back from her face and tossed it to the table beside the bed. His fingers moved through her hair as she leaned forward and kissed him. His hands cupped her face and she straddled his waist. He trailed his lips over her chin, throat, and to her breasts cupping one and licking the other. “It's you and I. That's what matters.”

He looked up at her to find her biting her lip. She moved her hands over his neck, shoulders, and down to his cock which was nearly fully hard. A few strokes of her hand over his heated skin and he pulled her flush against him. “I get to be on top, now,” she insisted and pushed him to his back. He felt a slight bit of panic until he was encased inside the warm heat of her cunt.

He let out a staggered breath and he saw her wince and he gripped her hips. “Are you alright?” he questioned.

Her eyes met his and she gave him a smile and sat back. “I hear this is similar to riding a horse,” she said as she leaned up and thrust back down, but she didn’t make a face or cry out in pain. She rocked against him and he licked his lips, trying to control the need to thrust up into her. Instead, he let her set the pace, her hands braced on his chest while his explored the contours and planes of her lithe body. She tossed her head back as his fingers found the tips of her breasts and she thrust her hips against his hard. “Gendry,” she moaned, and he knew he wanted to hear her say his name like that forever. Married or not, she would be his for the rest of his life.

*~*

He was dozing beside her, the only sound that of the fire and their breathing. The top fur had been tossed to the floor as Arya had realized it was stained with blood. He thought she looked strangely embarrassed by this. He was curled on his side, his face beside her ear. She lay on her back, her eyes closed as his thumb rubbed small circles over the flesh of her hip and she traced over the arm at her waist. She leaned her head against his and he could almost hear her smile as she whispered his name. “Gendry?”

He opened one eye and peeked at her to find that she was looking at him. “Mmm,” was all he was able to manage. He was exhausted from being up for several days and then how they’d spent their afternoon learning one another’s bodies. He didn’t know if he liked licking and touching her more or having her kiss and taste him. He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her lips closing around his cock tentatively. But then her moans when he’d made her come twice on his tongue were something he’d never forget either.

She smiled and moved into his arms and pushed him to his back to allow her to lay in his arms once more. “How long until you think you'll want to do it again?”

He groaned. “I haven't slept in almost three days.”

“So...an hour?”

Gendry was thrilled that she couldn’t get enough of him as he certainly would never get his fill of her. He smiled at the top of her head and placed a kiss in her hair. He entwined their fingers. “Less.”

*~*

Gendry had awoken to the sound of someone knocking on the door and lifted his head to see Arya, fully dressed save her one boot which she held in her hand. He climbed from the bed and donned his breeches and watched her grab her sword to hide behind the door.

He opened it to reveal Davos who smiled at him. “I saw the Scorpions being tested and men training on how to use them this afternoon. You did a good job.”

Gendry nodded. “Thank you.”

“I'm sure you're aware that I was the one who suggested you. I didn't mean offense.”

He shook his head. “Not a problem.”

“May I come in?”

Gendry frowned, wanting Davos to leave before he discovered the secret that was currently peeking out of the crack in the door after she had finally pulled on her other boot. “I was sleeping,” he said, though it wasn’t actually a lie. He simply hadn’t been sleeping alone. “I haven't done that in a few days.”

“Ah, of course, it's just that Lady Sansa is looking for her sister and someone suggested she come looking here. I managed to cut her off and steer her to the forge, but I don’t think she'll be there for long,” he whispered and Arya stepped from around the door.

“You saw nothing,” she said as she took her sword and left Gendry's room.

Davos cast a look at Gendry and then smiled at the quickly retreating form of Arya. “You won't say anything, will you?” Gendry asked for reassurance. The man had gone out of his way to protect him in the past, he didn’t know how far that would extend.

“And have her kill me? No. But be careful. Seems like she leaves a mark,” Davos pointed to his own shoulder to let him know that there was evidence of them together. Gendry looked and could see what looked to be claw marks. Arya Stark’s fingernails were sharper than they looked.

“Thank you.”

He gave a final nod and Gendry closed the door behind him. He pulled his tunic over his head, trying to absorb some of the warmth of the room and was nearly on the bed when another knock sounded. Gendry checked the room quickly then opened the door to find Sansa. He bowed his head and frowned. “Lady Sansa.”

“May I come in?” she asked, and Lady Brienne stood outside the door.

He moved out of the way and allowed her into the room and she nodded to Brienne to stay where she was. Sansa closed the door behind her and she looked around briefly before her eyes landed on the table beside his bed. He noticed the tie that Arya used to pull her hair back and mentally berated himself for missing it. Sansa then turned her eyes to his. “We met the other morning but didn't get the opportunity to speak.” He remained silent, knowing that people only said things like that when they wanted to speak. “I understand you know my sister well.”

Intimately. “We knew one another years ago. Fought for each other.”

“And how do you feel about her now?”

“My lady, that's...between your sister and me,” he knew he was taking a gamble, but he had no desire to discuss his relationship, sexual or otherwise, with her sister.

Sansa frowned. “Your relationship, past and present is fodder for gossips. Everyone suspects you've bedded her, if not recently, then years ago.”

“I've never said anything of the sort to anyone,” he replied vehemently.

Sansa smiled. “Arya has no interest in getting married, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. I simply hope you love and respect her enough to make sure that anyone who speaks badly of her in your presence...”

“Will leave without their tongues, my lady.”

She nodded and walked to the door. “New clothes are being sent up for you. Jon’s request. Says you'll need a warrior's garb if you're to take your place in the fight beside Arya.”

He smiled and felt a bit relieved at the thought that he might have just received her approval for his relationship with her younger sister. “Thank you.”

Sansa nodded. “I'll also send up a salve to help with the scratches on your neck,” she said before she left and his hand felt along his neck and groaned.

He removed his tunic and his leathers as he climbed onto the feather mattress, beneath the furs and tried to block out the last two conversations. Sleep was coming quickly when his door opened and closed. He opened his eyes to see Arya latch the door and begin removing her clothes. He smiled when she climbed into bed beside him.

“Not sure how much time we have before we're interrupted,” he said as his arms moved around her.

He felt her lips against the scratches at his neck and shoulder. “I spoke with Sansa on my way back. She's going to keep everyone away.”

“You marked me up where people could see,” he whispered. “On purpose or an accident?”

“Both. Once I realized I'd done it, I didn't care,” she answered honestly. “You marked me too,” she said showing him the bit mark at her pulse.

“On purpose.” He tilted his head and smiled at her. His tone grew serious as she snuggled into his arms. “Your brother offered to legitimize me so I could marry you,” he said softly.

She nodded and laced their fingers together. “I know. I heard the conversation.”

He wasn’t surprised by this and continued on. “You have no intention of ever getting married,” he said, to which she nodded, “but I would ask this of you: should you become pregnant, you’ll reconsider.”

“Why?” she asked and pushed herself up to her elbow to look down at him as he rolled to his side to face her.

“I was raised a bastard. Your brother, Jon, was raised a bastard.” He shook his head. “It’s horrible to feel like you’ll never belong. And if you were to become pregnant...it would be our child, yours and mine, and I wouldn’t want for them to feel like they weren’t wanted or were a mistake.”

She moved her fingers along his jaw and leaned her forehead against his. “And none of this is because you want me to be your wife?”

He held her close and kissed her softly. When he broke the kiss, his eyes were staring into hers and he felt lost in the dark gray. “I want that. But I know you don’t. You’re never going to be the lady of a keep because that’s not you.” She closed her eyes as his fingers moved along her spine and tilted her head back, relishing in the way she reacted to the tingling sensation over her skin. “I don’t care how we belong to one another as long as we’re together,” he whispered.

She shook her head and sighed. “Fine. Should I become pregnant, we’ll marry.”

He smiled. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever actually agreed to something without a fight.”

She shrugged. “Don’t get used to it,” she said with a smile as she kissed him. “You need sleep,” she whispered against his skin.

“As m’lady commands,” he smiled against her hair.

“Don’t make me kill you.”


	4. Chapter 4

ARYA IV

There was a pounding on the door and Arya opened her eyes and looked around, confused for a moment until she felt Gendry move from behind her. She sat up and watch him walk to the door sliding one leg, then the other into his leathers and quickly do the laces until he was decent. To be honest, she preferred him to be indecent, gloriously naked and between her thighs in a multitude of ways. Even now, she watched as the muscles of his back moved with the firelight dancing over his skin. The pounding continued and Arya slipped beneath the furs and listened as Gendry opened the door. “Ser Davos?”

She heard him step into the room and the door closed and she peaked her head from beneath the furs as the older man stared at the bed. “Your sister was attacked tonight,” he said, to which Arya sat up, making sure she was still fully covered.

“Attacked by who?” She could feel her blood boiling. Did someone dare put a hand on Sansa? They were dead. That’s all she could think of. If they hadn’t already been killed, she would slit their throat and watch the life leave their eyes.

“The dead,” Davos said, and his grave voice caused a short burst of panic to course through her veins, but then it was replaced with true concern for her sister.

“They’re here?” Gendry asked. His voice brought her eyes over to his and she could see the concern and how his body seemed to tense. If she wasn’t so concerned with her sister, she would have admired how the muscles in his arms and chest tightened. But there were more important things to tend to at the moment.

“One. It killed your sister’s handmaid, and she’s the one that attacked Sansa.”

“Is Sansa alright?” Arya asked softly. She may not agree with everything Sansa did, but after what happened with Lord Baelish, she thought they were closer than ever. She had even told her sister, after all, that she loved a boy. She would never have told someone like Jon. That was something strictly between sisters.

He nodded. “Jaime Lannister saved her. Lady Brienne is with her now.”

Arya nodded. “Thank you, Ser Davos.”

“Your presence is required in the hall at daybreak. The dead will be here sooner than we thought.”

Her eyes met Gendry’s as Davos turned to the door and left them. Arya moved from the bed quickly and began putting her clothes on and shook her head. “I’m going to check on my sister.”

Gendry slid his tunic over his head and then donned the doublet that had been sent up to him. “I’ll go with you.”

“Why?” she asked as she pulled her leathers up over her hips. “I can protect myself.”

“You can. But I have no intention of leaving your side,” he said as he attached the last clasp.

She sighed and stepped to him. She put her hands on his chest and leaned up to kiss him. “Fine.”

Arya tied her sword belt around her waist and slid the knife into its sheath. They finished getting dressed in silence. She felt an unfamiliar ache in her body and knew that it was from their hours together in Gendry’s bed. It was different than the hours she spent training for a fight. After those bouts, she never wanted to move again, but find the coldest water she could and soak her bones. This feeling was completely different. It started between her legs and then spread outward. Her thighs ached and whether it was because of how vigorously she had fucked Gendry when she’d been on top of him or how he had all but pinned her legs open to the bed to make her come on his tongue, she was unsure. The thought of both, though caused a half smile to form on her face. “Ready?” he asked and she turned to look at her strong bull and wished she could be in the bed with him, doing numbers of wicked things to him. Things that would surely make maids blush.

But now her mind was focused on her family and the fight to come. Gendry beside the door watching her, his hammer in his hand. There was a question in his gaze and she didn’t know what it was and thought to ask before they left.

“What is it?” She asked, her brows knit together.

“You love me, right?” It didn’t seem like a question, but an affirmation of what he already knew. She took it as one, though and gave him an answer.

She tilted her head. “Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know when we’ll actually be able to speak to one another alone, again. I simply needed the peace of mind that you loved me.”

She shook her head. “You’re so stupid,” she said with a laugh.

“You know, you can’t keep calling stupid.”

“I can if you say stupid things,” she said as she leaned up and kissed him. “I love you. You love me. Nothing else needs to be said.”

“You think you’re just going to push me around for the rest of our lives?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to be the person in charge of us. I want us to be equals. Mostly,” she said with a smile. “I want to win most of the time.”

He snorted. “I know that much about you.” He cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her. “I’ll let you win. Most of the time.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me win?”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I’ll let you win.” She punched him in the stomach lightly and he gasped. “You’re so damn violent.”

It was Arya’s turn to smirk. “Yes, I am. And you’re stuck with me,” she said and kissed him briefly before she tugged the door open and they both moved down the hall quickly. They came to Sansa’s room and found Brienne and Podrick standing outside the door, two sentinels standing guard.

She nodded to Brienne and knocked on the door. “Brienne! I’m fine!” Sansa called from inside, and Arya opened the door and poked her head in. She found Sansa sitting in front of the hearth and the older girl sighed. Arya stepped all the way inside and turned to Gendry. “Keep Pod and Brienne company,” she said as she closed the door behind her and moved over to Sansa who stood and embraced her younger sister.

Arya stepped back from her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

She sighed. “If we were playing the game of faces, you’d be dead. Don’t lie to me.”

Sansa took a deep, steadying breath and frowned. “I’m not fine. I’m terrified. All I can see is her charging at me. When I close my eyes...” Arya thought she did a remarkable job of not crying, though she did seem on the verge. “I see her face ripped apart and those blue eyes as she ran after me. And then Jaime kicked her to the ground and set her on fire...”

“Why weren’t you with Brienne?”

Sansa frowned. “I had sent her to bed and I couldn’t sleep. I went out to the rampart to get some air and to think. I never thought,” she started breathing harder and faster.

Arya sat Sansa back in her seat when it looked like she couldn’t breathe. “Deep breath,” Arya said calmly but held onto Sansa’s hands. “She’s gone and can’t hurt you.”

“No, but their army is marching on our home. We don’t have the numbers to defeat them.”

“We have skilled fighters, Sansa. Jon, Daenerys, dragons...we have a better chance than you think.”

“You haven’t seen them, Arya. You haven’t seen how nothing affects them. They keep coming. My family is going to be fighting in this war, and there is a possibility that I lose all of you after I finally got you back.”

Arya pulled the other chair closer to her and sat in it. “I’m hard to kill. Jon’s already died once. And Bran...I don’t know how to explain Bran. We’ve all survived horrors. We can survive more. We will.”

“How are you so certain?”

Arya sighed. “I have faith in us. Every obstacle that could be put in our way has been demolished. Distance, betrayal, evil men and their wicked schemes. We’ve fought it all and conquered. Have faith.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I wish people would stop telling to have faith.”

She assumed it was Jon. “I’m sure Jon meant well.”

She shook her head. She whispered, “It wasn’t Jon.”

Arya furrowed her brow and noticed small spots of pink appearing on Sansa’s face. “Who then?”

“No one.”

“Dead again,” Arya responded and Sansa’s jaw clenched. “The truth.”

“Jaime.”

“Well, he did save your life...”

“This was before that,” she said softly.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Arya tilted her head as she watched Sansa. “What were you doing with Jaime Lannister?”

“Arguing,” she said softly. “Mostly. He did save my life, but that’s because I knew where he was and I ran back to him.”

She watched Sansa as the other girl looked down at her hands. “What is your relationship with Jaime?”

“There is no relationship,” she insisted and then stood to pace the room. “I don’t like him.”

Arya was silent and sat back in her chair and watched her sister. “Yes, you do.” To say she was stunned was an understatement. “Let’s forget for a moment that he saved your life. There’s more to this than your dislike for him. He’s done a lot of bad things...”

“I know that,” she said quickly. “I’m the one that wanted him dead...”

She frowned. “So, what’s happening? Is it attraction?”

“I don’t...know,” she said softly. “I want to hate him. I should hate him.”

Arya sighed. “Probably. But if you don’t...that’s alright, too.”

“How?” Sansa questioned angrily. “How is alright? He pushed Bran out of a window. He hurt our family, Arya. His family has wreaked havoc on ours. Why do I feel so conflicted?”

She frowned and stared at Sansa, then shook her head. “I don’t know. Emotions aren’t really something I know how to deal with all that well.”

“You love Gendry.”

Arya furrowed her brow. “Yes, I do. But it started with respect. And sort of necessity.” At Sansa’s questioning look, she decided that now as a good time to be honest with her. She could see the confusion on Sansa’s face, and whether it was surrounding her feelings for Jaime Lannister or how it was that Arya came to love Gendry, she wasn’t sure. “When I left King’s Landing, I needed someone to protect me. I was too ready to jump into fights that I wouldn’t have won. Gendry stepped up for me.” She frowned. “But, there’s a history between us. Just three days ago, you were trying to get Jon to kill Jaime. Maybe what you’re feeling now is gratitude because he saved your life.” A thought struck Arya and she looked at her sister. “Unless you were already conflicted before this happened.”

Sansa shook her head and she lowered her head to turn away from Arya. “I don’t know what I feel. Everyone that I’ve put my trust in, with the exception of my family and Tyrion, has disappointed or hurt me.”

“Sansa, I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to feel about someone. I will say that you’ve endured a lot of things in the time since we left all those years ago. Things that you haven’t told anyone. And you don’t have to tell me. I’m not asking for that.” She tilted her head as she watched her sister. “You said your faith died. Maybe this is your way of trying to get some of it back.”

She sat beside Arya and sighed. “If it’s not nightmares about Joffrey and the things he did to Father or me, it’s nightmares about Ramsay and his knives. His whips,” she said, her voice cracking at the last word. Arya thought that Ramsay should be glad he was dead as she was much more sadistic than Sansa and would have removed every body part from his body at the joint. Slowly.

“Jaime’s only argued with you. Has he been disrespectful to you?” Sansa shook her head. “The dead are coming sooner than we thought. It might all be taken out of our hands. But if not, and if you are still conflicted after, then perhaps that’s a good thing. You and I have both acknowledged that I’m not great with emotions or relationships with other people. I have a difficult time trusting anyone. Put in your position, I don’t know that I would ever trust anyone again. But don’t close yourself off to possibilities.” Sansa gave her a skeptical look and Arya smiled, surprised that she was arguing in favor of hope.

“I’m not saying Jaime Lannister is the one for you, because, frankly, I think he’s...my feelings for the Lannisters aren’t exactly secret. But if you could feel something for him, then maybe you could eventually feel something for someone else.” Arya paused and looked at her sister who seemed forlorn. “Between the two of us, you were always the one who believed in the fairy tales. Knights and ladies and love. I thought it was bullshit. Septa Mordane hated my opinions on all of it. But you had hope that it was all true. I can’t fathom that you have given up on that completely.”

Sansa leaned back in her chair and frowned. “I thought I had. But then, Brienne took me to Jon. We took back Winterfell. Bran came home. You came home. Jon came back to Winterfell with an army and dragons and I had hope that this could actually...” she put her head in her hands and then looked up at her and Arya felt terrible for her sister. “It was easier when I thought all I had to live for was revenge against those who had wronged us.”

Arya understood that sentiment rather well. “It’s strange that when you think you are able to control how you feel and react to things...that’s the exact moment that the world decides to prove you wrong. You may or may not be attracted to Jaime Lannister. At this point, that doesn’t even really matter. You feel something. That’s the important part.”

“It’s easier not to feel. No one can disappoint you if you don’t let them close enough.”

Arya held up her hands, letting her know that she understood. “I’m not going to argue that. It is easier. I spent a long time trying to suppress how I felt because it’s dangerous to care. I understand, probably better than anyone how having hope is a dangerous prospect.”

“So, how do I keep from feeling it?”

She shook her head and looked at her hands. “I said I tried to suppress it. I didn’t say I was successful.”

“You believe we’ll win this war?”

“Yes,” Arya responded.

Sansa shook her head. “How?”

Arya shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t have doubt. I trust Jon. Strangely enough, I trust Daenerys. I can’t imagine that Jon came back from the dead simply to die in this war.”

Sansa frowned. “That’s usually when things turn bleakest.”

Arya smirked. “Usually. But, as I said, I trust Jon. I always have.”

They both grew quiet and Sansa looked at Arya. “That’s a nice bruise on your neck.”

Arya made a face at her sister. “Is it worse than when you last saw me?”

She could see Sansa was trying not to smile. “Yes. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“You will be, too, one day. Preferably not with Jaime Lannister, if you can avoid it.”

Sansa frowned. “I’ll try.”

Arya chuckled. “Of all the conversations I ever pictured us having if we ever saw one another again, this never would have entered my mind.”

“Nor mine,” she said softly. “But, I’m glad I have you back and that...we’ve managed to become closer than I ever thought possible.”

Arya smiled and nodded. “Me too.” She undid the belt at her waist and slid the knife off of it and handed it and its sheath to Sansa. “Take this.”

“Bran gave it to you.”

“And now I’m giving it to you. It would give me peace of mind if you had a weapon. Why not this knife?” Sansa took it from her and held it in her lap. Arya re-tied her belt and smiled at her.

“Stick them with the pointy end.”

“Funny,” Sansa said, though there was no mirth to her voice.

She shook her head. “When Jon gave me Needle, that’s what he told me. It’s good advice.”

Sansa chuckled. “I suppose it is. You’ll see me before you go into battle?”

“Of course. I have to reassure you that we’ll all be fine.”

“Are you telling me that to make me feel better or do you actually believe it?”

Arya stood and hugged Sansa again. “A little of both,” she whispered. “Sleep.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Find Jaime Lannister and threaten him,” she said and Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya. “I was joking.”

“It’s not funny,” she said. “Are you going to mercilessly tease me about this now?”

Arya smirked. “Of course. But only behind closed doors. You’ll continue to tease me about Gendry. Let me have this,” she said, giving Sansa’s hand one last squeeze before she turned to the door. “Sleep. And remember...the pointy end.”

Sansa rolled her eyes as Arya opened the door and left the room. She found Gendry leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, but Brienne and Podrick still standing on either side of the door.

“How is your sister?” Brienne asked.

“She’s...as you could expect,” she answered. “There’s a meeting at daybreak. Make sure Sansa is there.”

“Yes, my lady.” Arya frowned but Gendry smirked at her. She and Gendry started down the hall, but Brienne stopped them. “Arya.” She turned and looked at the larger woman. “Does she feel that I failed her?”

Arya shook her head. “No. You didn’t. You were where she told you to be. She holds no ill feelings towards you. Don’t hold this against yourself. She’ll be angry if she finds out you’re holding onto guilt for something you shouldn’t feel guilty for.”

Brienne nodded but still lowered her head. Arya knew it would take time before she would stop feeling responsible for this. Sansa would have to be the one to eventually ease her mind. The revelation about Jaime was a bit much. “Let me ask you something,” she said to Gendry.

“Anything,” he said in response.

“Would you be able to forgive the Lannisters for the things they’d done to my family if you were Sansa or I?”

He huffed out a breath. “Which Lannisters?”

“Jaime? Tyrion?”

He frowned. “Tyrion, maybe. Jaime...I don’t know. Cersei, I feel, is the root of evil in that family. How long did Jaime stay at her side and protect her?”

“Longer than he should have. He also tried to kill Bran when he was boy.”

“I don’t know how any of you have let him walk through the keep. I never met my father, but I want them to suffer for what they did to him.”

She stopped and he turned to look at her. “War makes strange allies.”

“True. But this is more than war. I mean, if we lose...”

“We won’t.”

Gendry smiled. “If we were to lose it would be the end of life as we know it.”

“Seems to me that’s always the case.” He looked down the corridor. He put his free hand on her hip and pressed a kiss to her lips. “What was that for?”

“As I said, end of life as we know it. I want to do that as much as I can before we go into battle.”

She smiled. “I’ll let you.”

He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’m actually hungry.”

“Let’s go see if they’ve started cooking,” she said as she tugged him by the hand behind her.

GENDRY IV

The cooks had only started kneading the bread when they entered, each of them bowing to Arya, though she seemed not to notice. Instead, she looked around to see if there was anything around to eat and found dried meat and a rare apple. She took both then bit into the apple and handed it to him as they walked down the hall. He caught her by the wrist and held her hand up to his mouth as he took a bite of the fruit. She stared up at him and the heat in her dark eyes stretched through him and caused his cock to press against the front of his leathers.

He trailed his tongue down along her hand where the juice from the apple dropped and she looked fierce in that moment. She pulled away from him quickly and instead of going into the hall, she turned to walk outside. She walked through the courtyard, and he noticed that there were more guards along the walls, though they were facing away from them.

She pushed open the door to the forge, finding it eerily empty. There were still hammers and bits of metal and wood lying along the work surfaces, which irritated Gendry. People needed to learn how to better handle their tools. He was broken from this thought as Arya pulled his head down to kiss her. He dropped his war hammer beside the door and started backing her up to the table in the center and let out a groan when he felt her fingers at the ties of his leathers. He lifted her onto the table and began assaulting her neck with his lips and once more worried the purple spot along her throat. She whimpered in response and when she slipped her hands inside his leathers and stroked over him, he bit her.

“Gendry,” she gasped, her hand stroking over him in a slow rhythm, her grip strong. He practically tore at hers and when they were loose enough, he pulled them down her legs, over the top of her boots, holding her ankles in place. He knew that anyone could walk in and find them, which was part of the excitement. He also knew that whoever opened that door would be dead by either her hands or his. She moved to the edge of the table, her legs spread as wide as they could with her ankles still caught. She teased the length of him against her clit and he groaned against her throat, moving to the other side and delighting in the idea of giving her matching marks. But when he was seated inside her, stopped moving for a moment as he looked at his wild wolf of a woman.

His lips met hers and he moaned into her mouth as he slid inside her. She grunted and broke the kiss. “You couldn’t take my boots off?” she questioned, not able to get him as deep as she obviously wanted. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with it either, but then he was where he wanted to be.

“Busy,” was all he said. He could tell she was still irritated, but she didn’t let that stop her from thrusting against him. “Fuck,” he groaned as he felt her tighten her walls around him as he started to pull out.

“We could be fucking better if you had taken off my boots,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Shut up or I’ll fuck you from behind,” he grunted against her lips.

She bit his bottom lip and he pulled away from her only to realize she’d caused him to bleed. He stopped thrusting inside her as he worried his lip with his tongue and she gave him a smile. He pulled out of her completely and held her legs up in the air and slipped between them, her ankles now wrapped around his back and he slid into her hard.

“Yes,” her loud moan filled the room and he hoped that no one got a bad idea to investigate. She was moving her hips against his vigorously, no longer complaining, instead muttering his name as he could feel how close she was, which he was thankful for because her moaning his name into the forge had been a fantasy of his for longer than he would like to admit.

He slipped a hand between them as both of her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to her closer than before. Her head was thrown back as his thumb circled around her clit and she came apart, her nails dragging down the back of his head to his neck. He growled as he emptied into her, burying his face into her neck and shoulder. He moved his arms around her waist and held her against him, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to leave the forge. In a short amount of time, they would be in the middle of a battle and he didn’t know how that would turn out, but he was hopeful that they weren’t simply reunited to be torn apart from one another.

“You alright?” she asked and he realized how tight he was holding her. When he lifted his head, he realized that she wasn’t laughing at him as he thought she might. Instead, she traced her thumb along his jaw, almost looking as desperate as he felt. He didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t know how to voice it, though. He wasn’t a person who recited poetry. He would never be that sort of man, but he felt like Arya in her strength and beauty deserved it.

He nodded and leaned in to kiss her lips then her nose. “Fine.”

He ducked from between her legs and pulled his leathers up once more as she leaned back on her hands and watched him, her feet dangling in the air, her pants still tangled around her ankles. He smiled slightly at the picture of her and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“From the waist up, you’re the picture of a warrior.”

“And from the waist down?” she questioned.

“Mine,” he said as he grabbed her feet and adjusted her breeches so she could put her feet on the ground. She started to move to redress herself, and instead, he grabbed them and dragged them up her legs, his fingers brushing against her as he did the laces. She bit her lip in response to him and when he finished she turned away from him to adjust her other clothes.

“You’re possessive,” she said softly and then turned into his arms. “I like it.”

He smirked. “Good. Because you’re mine. And I’ll kill anyone that thinks to take you from me.”

She shook her head. “I’m the cold-blooded killer in this relationship.”

“When it comes to you...” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I won’t be parted from you again.”

She smiled. “I know. You’re mine as I am yours.”

He leaned down to kiss her and backed her up to the bench. The door did open then and Gendry hated his hammer was standing beside the door near the sellsword. “Did I interrupt?” He looked more amused thinking he had.

Arya reached for the apple that had turned brown from where they'd both taken a bite and he could see she was thinking about throwing it at Bronn. “What do you want, my lord?”

He smirked. “I do like it when people call me that.” Then he shook his head as if to get himself back to why he interrupted them. “I heard people in here. I was making sure it wasn't dead people.”

“Very much alive,” Gendry said as he walked over to the man and lifted his hammer to hold the door open for Arya.

“My lady,” he said and glanced back at Arya who walked past them both and out to the courtyard. “Actually, I was curious how your sister was.”

Arya stopped and turned to look at him, a look on her face both of interest and irritation. “Why?”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I was in charge of the city watch while your sister was married to Tyrion. What happens to her matters to a great many people.”

“She's fine. Scared but fine.”

“I've faced off with you and your sword. If you survive, you should teach her how to protect herself. Might not be a lot of us left to show her.”

Gendry looked down at Arya and wondered what was going through her mind. “Are you in love with her?”

The sellsword scoffed. “Fuck no. But that doesn't mean I want to see her dead either.”

“Jaime was there to save her this time.”

He nodded and took a few steps towards them. “Luckily for her. What happens when he's not? Or you're not? Even Brienne? She should learn how to fight if for no other reason than to keep someone else like a Ramsay or Joffrey from hurting her.”

“What do you know about it?” Arya hissed.

“More than I'd like, girl. Joffrey was a cunt. He allowed other people to do his dirty work for him, even if it was beating up defenseless girls like your sister. Tyrion saved her from one such public beating. There is no telling how much we didn't witness.”

Gendry frowned. He knew the sellsword wouldn't have brought up the subject if all of this didn't mean something in the end. However, he had a point and could see that Arya agreed with him as well.

“I'll see that she's properly trained after we win.”

“ If you mean?”

She shook her head. “When ” she said confidently and Gendry only smiled at the sellsword as Arya walked inside. Bronn grabbed his arm to keep him from following. “I've done just about every depraved thing you could think of. I would advise against fucking a lady in public.”

Gendry’s jaw tensed. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I heard the two of you. I don't blame you or even judge you. But she has a lot of family roaming around here. The King In The North is one of them. I don't know how he'd take it to see his sister being fucked in a forge,” his voice was low. “Chances are we all die tonight, so fuck while you can. But keep in mind that whether she likes it or not, she's still a lady.”

Gendry pulled his arm away from the sellsword. “I trust, my lord , that this stays between you and me?”

He smirked. “Do you think I fancy having her cut my throat?”

“She’s not the only one you need to worry about.”

He shook his head. “I’m not afraid of you. Her? I’m terrified. But I have no intention of spreading to the gossips.” Gendry started walking away. “You might want to do something about the claw marks down the back of your head.”

He didn’t turn around but found Arya waiting for him by the door, her brow furrowed. “What took you so long?” she asked.

“I don’t like him,” he mumbled.

She shrugged. “Who cares about him?” he looked back once more to see Bronn following them inside, but a good pace behind them as they entered to find other people already milling about the hall.

He leaned down to whisper in Arya’s ear. “Did you claw up the back of my head?” he let her see and when he looked at her, she was trying to hide a laugh. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s very funny,” she said with a smile and put her hand over his heart, not caring who was watching them. “I rather like my mark on you.” She paused. “And it’s not as if I don’t carry a great bite mark on my neck.”

He smirked down at her. “You, m’lady, are wicked. I love that about you.” She grinned up at him and moved to kiss him but he pulled away slightly and noticed they had an audience. It was only when Arya’s eyes turned to them that they looked away.

“What do you care what they think?”

“Only when it concerns you. You’re mine,” he whispered, “but I won’t have anyone getting notions about you being ruined.”

“Ruined?” she questioned. “How?”

“If I’ve had you, that’s what they would think,” he said, his voice soft. “I wouldn’t want to bring dishonor to you or your family.”

She frowned. “You are a man of honor. I know that about you. I don’t care what they think or say. You’re mine. I’m yours. If they don’t like it, I’ll kill them while they sleep.”

He chuckled. “Gods forbid any of them says something you don’t like. They wouldn’t survive the day.”

“Precisely. And if something is said to someone like Jon and he has a problem with it, then I’ll talk to him.”

“Oh, will you? Do you think he wouldn’t come find me first and try to cut my dick off?”

“He can’t have it. That belongs to me,” she said, her tone leaving little question as to whether or not she believed what she was saying. She did. If anyone else said that about him, he would have taken offense. But not her. “And I’ll tell my brother that I’ll stop fucking you when he stops fucking the queen. Let’s see how he appreciates that.”

“I’d rather you not discuss what you and I do with your brother. Let’s start there,” he said as he cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead.

She frowned. “That’s the only kiss I get?”

He smiled. “If we live through tonight, I’ll give you your favorite kind of kiss.”

She grinned. “I do love the Lord’s kiss,” she whispered then moved away from him and towards the door that led to the Lords and Ladies' chambers as he exhaled. He took a place along the wall and rolled his eyes as Bronn joined him. Jaime entered soon after and joined them against the wall.

“Lovely morning to find out how fucked we are, isn't it?” Jaime asked Bronn.

“We still have two dragons. That has to count for something.”

“And how long until one of them falls and then they have two dragons?”

“If you're going to be this fucking happy, you can go stand over there with that pompous Royce cunt,” Bronn said. Arya reentered the room with Brienne, Sansa, and Podrick. The young squire said something to Arya and she smiled and Gendry's hold tightened on his hammer.

Bronn nudged him with his elbow. “You glaring at her or Pod?”

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Sansa looks alright.”

“Better than earlier. At least she's not sobbing,” Jaime answered and he watched as Sansa's eyes met his and they both turned away quickly. There was something there. Even Gendry could see it.

Whatever was happening, Arya had already scented it out and whispered something to Sansa that caused her to blush and look down. But she didn't avert her eyes from Jaime's for long and even Gendry had to smirk to see Jaime Lannister uncomfortable.

Leave it to Bronn to realize this as well. “You happened to be there when she was being chased by a corpse?”

“What are you saying?”

“Convenient that you were around.”

“We'd been talking.” At this Gendry looked over at Jaime and the older man straightened. “That's all.”

Bronn looked unconvinced but Gendry frowned and defended the Lannister. “If he had done anything she didn't want, he'd already been dead. Arya can read people, tell when they're lying. Obviously, he didn't touch Sansa or he wouldn't be standing here.”

Bronn seemed to take this into consideration. “Valid point. Sansa wanted you dead as well. I suppose you've been honorable. Such a fucking tragedy.”

Gendry looked on as Jaime lowered his voice. “Are you drunk?”

“Yes. But that doesn't mean it's not a tragedy that you haven't tried to get beneath that Stark girls skirts. You have women fawning over you all the time.”

“Not usually women who want to kill me.”

“As I said, an angry fuck is still a good one,” Gendry rolled his eyes and saw Jon and Daenerys enter the room. Arya was moving from the head table when Sansa grabbed her arm and made her stay.

She gave Gendry and apologetic look and stayed beside her sister. He winked in response. The wildling, Tormund entered the room and moved around the hall to stand beside Jaime, and Gendry nearly laughed at Brienne’s obvious attempts to not look uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

“My Lords. My Ladies. Shall we begin?” Daenerys’s voice sounded through the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Arya V & Gendry V

Chapter Summary

Arya watches the battle from the rampart and Gendry joins her in the frey.

Chapter Notes

Arya's part was really short, so I wanted to add Gendry's to it as I feel like they sort of go hand in hand.

ARYA

When the fighting began, Arya felt herself getting excited, but tried to control it. It wouldn’t do to run through her adrenaline before she even entered the fight. In fact, she took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, trying to fight off the feeling as long as possible. This battle would rage for a long while, and tiring herself out before she even used her sword would help no one.

Seeing Jon flying on a dragon was something she didn’t know if she would ever get used to. In fact, thinking of him as anything other than her brother wasn’t something to even comprehend.

But watching the dragons fly and light the field with their fire, taking out no telling how many of the dead as they burned, was something to truly behold. Their power, the ability to change the way a battle could go, was frightening...if you were on the other side.

Arya stood between Lyanna Mormont and Davos while they watched the field begin to light up as bodies began to be burned. The dragons flying overhead gave her a bit of peace as she could see their flames cutting through the dead armies. Only when they flew by and their flames remained did she actually get a view of the force coming for them. It was disheartening to think of all the people that died to make up the army of the dead. How long had he been collecting people to fight against the living? Why? If they knew that, they might be able to defeat him easier.

Suddenly, the blue flame lit up the field, slicing its way through the Unsullied and then the Dothraki and she felt true fear as she saw how fast the dragon was flying and heard one of the Scorpions fire then the other. They both missed but it was enough to get the Night King to pull back and away from the field. She saw the dragon settle amongst the dead coming amongst the trees. Arya took a cursory glance at the tower and could almost make out Gendry's form, but at hearing the screech of a dragon looked on in horror as the Night King had flown his dragon at Daenerys and Drogon. Jon, on Rhaegal, was flying as fast as he could towards them even as they fell.

When Rhaegal latched onto the dead dragon, it was forced to release Drogon and she felt her heart skip a beat as Rhaegal chased after the Night King. Even still, the large black dragon fell and finally righted himself before they took a rough landed, but whether or not the Dragon Queen was still on him remained to be seen.

“Fuck,” Davos said from beside Arya, and she didn’t think she could sum up her feelings any better than that.

Arya saw Drogon’s flames lighting up the dead and Jon on Rhaegal was hovering over the ground as Rhaegal burned through the dead as well. She didn't know how long the black dragon was on the ground before he flew into the air once more and circled around the field. Arya hated being so far away and unable to protect the people she loved. She knew her purpose, she knew why she was currently on the wall of Winterfell with a bow in her hand. But she wanted to ensure that Jon was alive. She wanted to make sure that Daenerys was alive. So much of this war depended on her. Her armies were what stood between the North and the dead. Her dragons were the ones fighting in the air, giving them a slight advantage. As Drogon circled to the west, she thought she could see

Daenerys on his back, but she wouldn't say for sure. The dead dragon’s flame lit up the field again, cutting a swath through the Unsullied and Dothraki.

“Shoot that son of a bitch down,” Davos called as the Night King on Viscerion was close enough and called for them to load arrows onto their bows. “Nock!”

Arya pulled her bow taut, the arrow beside her cheek. It had been a long time since she had fired. She didn’t know if she was going to hit the dragon or the evil being riding him. She didn’t care which one took the hit as long as they went down.

“Hold!”

She took a deep breath in as the Night King flew closer. One arrow. Could it really end with one arrow?

“Loose!”

Arya let the arrow fly and reloaded her bow to draw again. She remembered Anguy’s lesson all those years ago. Don't concentrate on the target. She got another shot off before he turned and flew out of range. She glanced at the little girl beside her, amazed at her calm demeanor under pressure.

“How long have you been using a bow?” Arya asked, trying to take the younger girl’s mind off of the possibilities of everyone in this battle dying. A part of her was trying to take her own mind off of it.

“A few months,” Lyanna responded. She looked over at Needle at Arya’s side and then up at the older girl. “Your sword?”

“Years, now. Six, maybe?”

The truth was she had lost track of time when she'd been in Braavos. The days and nights blended together, training was her only concern. Becoming no one and leaving behind the life she’d had in Westeros. She was meant to leave everyone and everything. She could let go of most things. The thought of letting go of Needle and of her fond memories of Jon weren’t something she could actually do.

In the line of blood, he wasn’t actually her brother. But there was no other way to think of him.

“I hope I don't have to prove my skill with a sword,” Lyanna said, and she saw uncertainty in the little bear.

“I agree. Let the dead stay out there.”

Now, she had the chance to use what she'd learned. There was no doubt she was as good as she believed she was. Soon, it would be time to use what she'd learned to protect those she loved.

It was then she saw the outer ring light as Drogon flew over it. But suddenly, the large black dragon latched into Viscerion and a part of Arya was elated to see the dead dragon fighting for its life.

Rhaegal’s flame lit up the sky as it blew at the Night King. But the smoke was growing too heavy on the field; snow and ash filling the sky making it nearly impossible to see. The ring of Fire around the Keep was too bright to allow her to see what was happening, but she heard the Scorpion fire and Arya felt her heart race! All three dragons were too close. Why would they fire?

They were at a high position and may have had a better vantage point, but the risk seemed too high. She could no longer see the dragons and feared for both Daenerys and especially Jon. She could feel panic building inside her, but she wouldn't let it fester. They would win this. There was no doubt. No doubt.

However, as she thought this and tried to push the feeling into her heart, to feel it truly, the outer ring’s flame was suddenly extinguished. She didn’t know how this was possible.

Davos leaned against the wall and she took a step forward as well. “What's happened?” Lyanna questioned.

“I don't know my lady. But nothing good comes from that,” Davos asked.

*~*

GENDRY

As the fires in the trenches went out, any chance of being able to see what was happening left with it. From the tower, he was able to see the field better. He saw the numbers of the dead that were now crushing through the field as the Dothraki and Unsullied fought them off together. There were fewer and fewer bodies burning, which gave him a sick feeling in this pit of his stomach.

The second trench lit, only he didn’t see who lit it. Last he saw of Jon or Daenerys on the dragons, they were still to the other side of the castle fighting it out in the air with the other one. They all watched in horror as the dead dragon flew to the tower opposite them and used it’s flame to destroy it. Gendry’s partner on the tower fired at the dragon but only just missed.

He got another bolt loaded onto the Scorpion and his partner took aim as once again the dragons were fighting with one another. Drogon had now attacked the dead dragon and he could see them hanging out in the field and his partner, a young soldier named Harry fired in the direction of the dragons. It was the second time he’d sent a bolt at the three of them and Gendry was quickly losing his temper.

“You fire that fucking thing at all three again, I’ll crack your skull in!” He shouted.

He saw a giant run through the Dothraki and then lay on the fire, allowing bridge for the dead to pass over. And now the Knights of the Vale and the Northron lords joined the fight. Viscerion flew towards the castle and suddenly he was hit by Rhaegal. They were close enough for Gendry to see Jon on the back of Rhaegal and so when he heard the sounds of bolts being let loose from the Scorpions, he had a moment of panic until one struck the dead dragon and let loose of Viscerion to fly away from the falling dragon.

“SHOOT IT NOW!” Gendry screamed at Harry and the second bolt hit Viscerion in the chest before it hit the ground. They both moved to the edge of the tower and could see the dragon lying dead on the field, but looked on in horror as he realized the dead were now crawling up the sides of the keep.

Gendry took up his hammer and cleared two of them off at once as the man with him used his dragonglass sword to stab one in the head. He looked over at the rampart where Arya had been and realized that most everyone had abandoned it and he could see them in the courtyard.

He grabbed Harry and pulled him along behind him down the stairs. “We’re supposed to shoot the Scorpion.”

“The dragon we needed dead is dead. Time to fight the ones inside the yard,” he said as they burst out the door and used his hammer to make his way to Arya. The hound had Davos and Lady

Mormont near him. He was surprised to see the little bear so able to swing a blade, but his surprise turned to questions as a host of the dead suddenly turned to ash in front of them. Arya was still fighting a few on her own, but he watched in horror as she was suddenly taken down. He ran as fast as he could to reach her. If he lost her, then none of this mattered. He could see the Hound rushing to her as well when suddenly one after the other that had been on top of her slacked on top of her as she used a dragonglass knife stab them.

He stopped beside her, the Hound and Davos having fought their way over to her. She had a gaping wound on her shoulder and thigh. “Arya,” he questioned.

“I’m fine,” she said as she stood on her good leg.

“You’re hurt,” he insisted.

She glared at him. “But we still have to fight.” Another group of the dead turned to ash and bones in front of them, leaving only about ten to kill in the courtyard. “What’s happening out there?” she questioned as she took Needle into her hand once more.

“We need to kill these fuckers and maybe we can go look,” Davos said and the five of them put their backs to each other and began fighting in a circle, the Hound taking out ten with the swing of his broadsword. Lyanna’s center was low enough that almost any swing of her sword was an upswing, nearly causing the bodies to be cut in half. He took a swing of his hammer and three of the dead were gone. The courtyard was suddenly empty save for them and a few other soldiers. Davos went to the rampart and shook his head. “I can’t see a fucking thing!” he said when suddenly the black dragon flew over the top of them.

Gendry helped Arya to a sitting position and he looked at both wounds and saw the blood seeping from them. His eyes met her and he was terrified to see her even paler. “Don’t move!” he ordered and removed his belt. He looped it above the wound on her leg and tied it off.

“The dragons are burning the Night King!” Davos called.


	6. Chapter 6

Arya VI

Chapter Summary

The fallout from battle as Arya faces the fact that she's not as invincible as she thought.

ARYA

Gendry had helped her into the castle as she had insisted that he not carry her. But the walk up the stairs was taking too long and she felt weaker with every step. Gendry, sensing this, put his hands beneath her knees and carried her along the corridor. “I can walk.”

“Not fast enough,” he mumbled and she pointed to the door of her room and he kicked it open with his boot. He placed her on the bed and went about removing her boots and her jerkin. The wound in her right shoulder ached even though Gendry was careful not to hurt her. He tossed the bloody armor to the ground followed by her tunic and covered her chest with a fur, then went about ridding her of her leathers.

“Of all the ways I pictured you undressing me, this was not what I had in mind,” she said weakly, though he didn’t smile at her jest. He was focused on the task at hand. He cut her leathers just below where he had tied her leg off and tossed it to the floor. A knock on the door alerted them to someone else and she looked to see Jon’s friend, Sam.

“I might be of some assistance,” he said as he came into the room, while Gendry made sure the knot in the belt above the wound in her leg was tight enough. Sam placed a basket beside her on the bed. “Which is your sword arm?”

“Left,” she responded.

“Lucky you,” he said as he rolled her slightly in the bed to make sure there wasn’t an exit wound through the back. He began to pack the wound with linen and looked at Gendry. Hold this here until I can get her stitched up. I think this wound in her leg is a bit more dire. Gendry put pressure on the cloth on her shoulder and watched Sam examined her leg. She winced as he poked around and let out a sigh when she felt him stop. “Nothing major seems to have been hit,” he said and Arya didn’t know if he was talking to them or himself. “Some Milk of the Poppy should help while I clean and sew up these wounds.”

“Arya!” Sansa said as she entered the room and took her good hand on the other side of the bed. “Are you alright?”

“Not the first time I’ve been stabbed,” she said, with a slight smile, uncomfortable with how serious the tone was in the room.

Sam held a vial out to Sansa. “Help her take this, please,” he said as he removed a needle and thread. “I’m going to stitch the muscle inside, then work on closing the skin inside.”

Arya allowed Sansa to help her drink the liquid and she settled back against the pillows. Gendry still wasn’t looking at her and it was starting to make her angry. Instead, he watched Sam as began stitching the wound. The needle felt hot as it pierced her skin, but she didn’t make a sound. Arya turned to Sansa, feeling tired though she was trying to block out the pain. She wouldn’t give into it. She wouldn’t feel it if she could avoid it. “How’s Jon?”

“Injured. I don’t know to what extent.”

“And Daenerys?”

“Injured as well, but not bad. She was still walking around outside with her advisor and some of the Dothraki. I believe she was tending to Ser Jorah. He fell.”

Gendry’s expression changed and it looked sad, as did Sam. “I hate to hear that. Ser Jorah was a good man. I met him at my time in the Citadel. He had Greyscale.” All three of them turned their attention to him, and Arya wondered how could anyone be so selfish as to put themselves around other people when they had that horrible disease. Sam seemed to realize that he was being watched and then smiled at him. “He was cured.”

Sansa frowned. “There isn’t a cure for it.”

“There is, my lady. If a person is willing to perform it and the patient willing to accept it. Ser Jorah was willing, and so I did,” he said as he went back to stitching up the wound.

“Why did you help him?” Arya mumbled.

Sam heaved a sigh. “His father was our Lord Commander. He was a good man and was killed because he had honor. It was horrific. But your brother...er, cousin?”

Sansa and Arya both answered together. “Brother.” Sansa smiled down at Arya.

“Right,” Sam smiled as well. “Your brother led a group beyond the wall to seek justice for his death. He was victorious. His sword came from Lord Commander Mormont. Though, when he had it, there was a bear on the pommel, not a wolf.”

Sansa reached for a linen and handed it to him when he completed stitching her leg. Sam wrapped it as Arya spoke. “What else can you tell us about Jon’s time on the wall?”

Sam smiled. “He helped us. The new ones. I suppose you can imagine that I wasn’t going to be the best member of the Night’s Watch. But Jon helped me. He was the first friend I made while there. We’ve lost a lot,” he said and ushered Gendry out of the way in order to work on her shoulder. “Ser Alliser Thorne hated him. Made his life miserable at every opportunity. Instead of making Jon a Ranger, which is what should have happened, he made him a Steward to Commander Mormont. I’m the one that nominated him to be our new Lord Commander. When the Wildling army attacked the wall, Jon led us after Ser Alliser was injured.” He cleaned the wound and went to work sewing it up. “He was the commander we turned to when the night was darkest.”

Arya sighed as she listened to the stories about Jon. She knew that all had stories to tell and that if Sam hadn’t told all of this, they probably never would have heard it. How much did they not know about one another? It caused her to look at Gendry who sat at the foot of her bed and watched Sam. What had he been through, endured? She knew parts of it. But there was more to him than that. There was something there that would require exploration and years of getting to know one another.

But now, as Sam finished with the last stitch to her shoulder and wrapped the linen around it, she felt exhausted. Sam smiled at her one last time. “I’m going to tend to some of the others. If you need anything I’ll be in the hall,” he said as he packed up his items and left the room, Gendry saying something to him and then closing the door behind him.

Sansa still sat beside her on the bed, her hands still wrapped around hers. “Gendry, would you mind giving me a moment alone with my sister?”

He shook his head and finally turned his blue eyes to look into Arya’s. “I’m going to fetch my hammer and your sword. I’ll be back shortly,” he said with a nod and closed the door behind him as he left.

“He’s acting strangely.”

Sansa was silent for a moment and then sighed. “I suppose he is. You were stabbed, injured in front of him. That would make anyone act strangely.”

She sighed. “It was a fluke. I got rushed by four at a time.”

“You’re lucky.”

Arya shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe,” she said. “Still have two dragons?”

She nodded. “Yes. They’re still...roaming around outside.”

“Good,” she said softly. “They’ll be helpful when we go to King’s Landing.”

“ We ?” Sansa asked incredulously.

Arya frowned. “You’re not going to get protective now, are you?”

“Arya, you’ve been stabbed. Twice.”

“Not the first time."

“I would like it if it were the last,” she whispered. “You could have died. If not from being swarmed, then from losing so much blood. You must realize that.”

“I do. I’m not afraid of death.”

Sansa scowled at her. “Maybe I’ve had my fill of losing my family. We only just reunited. You and I actually have something close to a relationship that is meaningful, after all that’s happened to us. I’m not ready to lose you.”

Arya frowned. “You won’t.”

Sansa shook her head and released her hand. “You can’t leave, Arya. I need you here...”

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I don’t want your reckless disregard for yourself to take you from me.”

Arya stopped at that and closed her eyes momentarily. “I love you, too, Sansa.”

“Then, please, when they go South, stay here. Help be my shield.”

She looked at her sister and could see the fear in her bright blue eyes. She remembered Bronn’s words about teaching her how to fight and wondered, for a moment, if maybe that would be her purpose. Jon and Daenerys would ride south and would no doubt be successful against Cersei. She’d spent so much of her life trying to get back home, trying to find a family to latch onto and replace her own, that now faced with her sister begging her to stay, she realized she was probably better to stay and ensure that Sansa was safe. Brienne could teach her how to use a sword if she desired, but Arya knew she needed Sansa as much as she needed Jon, Bran, and Gendry.

“What if I taught you how to shield yourself?”

“Whatever would keep you here,” she whispered.

Arya nodded. “I’ll think about it,” she said softly and felt Sansa take her hand again. “Milk of the Poppy is better than any wine. We should have it for dinner, sometimes.”

Sansa chuckled. “I’ll leave you to rest,” she said as she stood from the bed and turned to Arya. “You realize that you’ll need to refrain from any sort of...physical activity for a while, don’t you?”

Arya smirked. “I’ve still got a good hand,” she said with a laugh at the scandalous look upon her sister’s face. “Go away and let me rest. And send Gendry back,” she said even as she felt her eyes closing. “Maybe you should go see how the other fighters are doing. Might be that Ser Jaime needs your help.”

Sansa frowned. “I regret telling you that.”

Arya laughed. “I’m sure you do. Now, leave me and send in Gendry.”

*~*

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but when she woke, her leg was throbbing and she looked down at the hands untying the belt from around her leg. She looked up to see Maester Wolken who smiled down at her. “Samwell Tarly did a wonderful job with the stitching, but I believe we can remove the tourniquet,” he said. She glanced around the room and found Gendry standing at the foot of the bed, his arms folded over his chest. He’d changed clothes, no longer wearing the heavy jerkin and shoulders he’d worn during battle. Instead, it was a light brown leather that seemed to make his blue eyes sparkle.

The feeling of blood rushing through her limb caused her to gasp as it felt like she was being pricked by a thousand needles along her skin. She hated the feeling more than she could describe, but the Maester smiled up at her after a moment. “A very good job on these stitches. You’re not bleeding terribly,” he said as he wrapped her leg once more. “I’ve brought more Milk of the Poppy should the pain grow too much to bear, but try to resist taking it if possible.”

Arya nodded and the Maester stood. “How’s Jon?”

“The King is resting in his room. He has several broken ribs, but none puncturing a lung, which is a blessing. Other than that, a few minor scratches, scrapes and bruises. The Queen is taking good care of him, though her arm is broken.”

Arya sighed. “And Bran?”

“I last saw him speaking with Lord Tyrion Lannister,” he responded. “Well guarded by the Northron men,” he assured. She rested back against her pillow then looked over his shoulder at Gendry. “As are you, my lady.”

“He’s not Northron,” she answered and turned her eyes to Gendry.

The Maester smiled at her. “Get some rest, and I think we’ll try to have you up and walking around a bit by tomorrow.”

Arya nodded and the older man left. Gendry stayed at the foot of the bed, his eyes burning into hers. He almost looked angry at her. “Why are you so far away?”

“You’re injured,” he responded.

She nodded and patted the bed with her good hand. He rolled his eyes and joined her. When he was lying back against the other pillow, she moved closer to him and rested her head over his heart. “What’s the matter?”

He turned on his side to face her, causing her head to drop back to her pillow. “You almost died.”

She smiled. “ Almost .”

He found her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Still. I watched you bleed. I saw those dead things swarm you and for a moment...everything was gone.”

The smile left her face and she frowned. “We all knew what we were getting into.”

He nodded. “We did. I had made peace with the fact that I might die. Almost expected it, really. And I was fine with that because I knew you were going to live and fight on,” he heaved a sigh. “I never pictured a world without you,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “I’m here. I’m alive.”

“Yes,” he said with a smile. “Five stabs wounds now, is it?” She nodded. “Five too many, in my opinion. I hate seeing you hurt.”

“I don’t much like either,” she said and he dropped his head to her shoulder. “Better than the alternative, though.”

“Can you not get stabbed again in the future?” he questioned and wrapped an arm around his waist.

She chuckled. “I didn’t plan on this time...but I’ll do my best.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on her uninjured shoulder. “Good.” He rested his head on the pillow beside hers. “How are you feeling?”

“It hurts, but it’s not horrific. Mostly tired.”

“I can leave and let you get some sleep,” he offered but he made no attempts to move.

She shook her head. “No. I would have you stay with me,” she said as she pushed him onto his back and moved into his arms. He toed off his boots and settled beside her. The room was silent save for the crackle of the logs on the fire. She was nearly asleep when she said his name and got a soft moan in response. “You love me, right?”

“Yes. Stupid fool that I am is in love with you.”

She smiled, her eyes still closed. “If they let me up to move around tomorrow, we’re having sex.”

He chuckled. “Are we?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll see.”

“Don’t try to deflect me,” she ordered, but there was no bite to her tone.

“You’re injured. I’m not going to risk further injuring you because you can’t wait a few days.”

“It’s your fault.” She sighed. “Besides, you promised to kiss me.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I did, didn’t I?”

She nodded. “I expect you to do as I bid.”

“As m’lady commands.” When she didn’t say anything he looked down at her. “No comment?”

Arya smiled and shook her head. “I like when you call me m’lady . I know it means more. So I’ll let you,” she whispered.

He leaned his head against hers and she could feel herself drifting off once more, dreams of battles and the sun drifting through her mind.

GENDRY VI

Gendry was seated in front of the fire and he was acutely aware of Arya behind him attempting to undress. She insisted that she didn’t need him and so he didn’t help her unless she asked for it. After watching her throw the crutch that the Maester had given her at both Sansa and Brienne, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. If she wanted to be stubborn and overexert herself, he’d let her.

She moved around his chair and stood in front of him, and he knew she would hate it if he mentioned that she still had a very pronounced limp. The stitches on her arm were healing well, and her leg looked better than it had days before. He was thankful that the bandages around both were no longer coming away bloody.

“Why are you being so quiet?” she asked.

He frowned and leaned back in his chair and pulled her to sit on his lap. “Sad day.”

Her fingers moved along his jaw as he leaned into her neck, inhaling her scent. At the moment she smelled like the salve that the Maester had given her to put over her wounds. But there was also the smell of leather and wind. “Reflecting on your life choices?”

He nodded and smirked up at her. “Yes, specifically allowing you to command me like a pup.”

“When have I done that?”

He rolled his eyes. “When haven’t you done that?”

She then shrugged her uninjured shoulder and grinned. “You knew what you were getting into.”

He nodded. “I certainly did. No regrets.”

Arya leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips and he knew he’d have to somewhat hold back or she’d have him and she’d be in pain later. He wouldn’t hurt her for anything, no matter how much he wanted her. She broke the kiss and ran her thumb along his lower lip. “Maybe we should take this to the bed.”

He smoothed his hand down her back and frowned. “I told you when the Maester says you won’t start bleeding...”

She moved from his lap and over to her side of the bed and removed her sword. He knew she wouldn’t be able to remove her jerkin without his help, and he was going to make her ask for it. He wanted to prove a point, that she wasn’t as well as she thought. He kept his back to her as he removed his other boot and placed both by the fire and then leaned back. He could hear her huff in frustration and finally, his name said angrily. “Gendry.”

“Yes?”

“I can’t get to all the laces,” she admitted and he leaned around the chair to look at her. He didn’t know why her hair was mussed like it was, but that combined with only one boot on her foot, the laces of her leather breeches undone and her jerkin hanging off her shoulder he thought she was beautiful in her anger. He stood and walked over to her. He undid the laces down her side and dropped the jerkin to the floor as well as her tunic. He pushed her to the bed and undid her other boot. She stood again to allow him to remove her leathers and felt her lips against his ear.

“Why are you still here?” she whispered.

He stood straight and looked at her. “Where else would I be?”

She shook her head. “I mean...I’ve been nasty to everyone the last few days. You’ve endured my temper more than others...”

He smirked. “You haven’t thrown anything at me, either.” He brushed down her hair and kissed her gently on the forehead. “You’re my concern. There’s nowhere else I’m going to be, even if you did decide to kick me out.”

She leaned her head against his chest and he cupped her face in his hands. “I hate being helpless.”

He sighed. “You’re not helpless. Are you able to do everything you did before? Not at the moment, but you’re already getting around better than you did. Your wounds are healing,” he said as he helped her to the bed and sat beside her.

“It’s frustrating,” she said where she sat beside him. “I feel fine, most of the time, but sometimes just the wrong movement causes me pain and it makes me feel weak.”

He took her hand in his. “It’s not weak to admit that you’re hurt. Or to ask for help.”

“I hate it.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I imagine you do. You never liked admitting you needed anything from anyone. I didn’t see how that would have improved with age.”

She rolled her eyes and he gave her a half smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be a bigger pain in my ass?”

He shook his head. “No, my lady. That’s always been you to me.”

She shoved him with her good hand. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Sex, mostly,” he said and they both chuckled.

“Although, you’re not even holding up to your end on that one.”

He sighed. “Believe me, it’s not been fun sleeping pressed up against you every night and every morning. Especially where you do that thing and rub your arse against me.”

She smiled. “I do it on purpose.”

He nodded and chuckled again. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

Arya frowned then. “When Jon goes South, I’m going with him.”

“I know.”

She tilted her head. “Not going to try to talk me out of it?”

He shook his head. “Why would I waste the energy? You’re a fighter. And it would be damn disrespectful of me to ask you. So, if you’re going, I’m going with you.”

“You truly know who I am. I thought that it might scare you away...”

He sighed. “No. Seeing you bleeding on the ground scared me. Watching you hurl your crutch at Sansa and then later Brienne? That was a bit frightening. Who you are doesn’t scare me.”

*~*

Gendry spun his hammer in his hands as he stood beside a sitting Arya and watched Brienne instructing a reluctant Sansa with a sword. He could see how frustrated Arya was that she couldn’t help, but it still hurt badly to put weight on her leg and Brienne and Sansa wouldn’t allow her to help unless she was going to make verbal suggestions from the side. Pod was standing on Arya’s other side as they watched Brienne knock the blade from Sansa’s hands again.

“She held it longer that time, didn’t she?” Pod asked.

Gendry frowned. “Not much longer.”

“Sansa, it’s like your sewing needles. If you hold it too tight you don’t get the fluidity you need to move to the next stitch and too loose and you drop the needle to the floor,” Arya explained.

Sansa picked up the sword and looked at her sister in exasperation. Tormund joined them shortly and they watched as Brienne tried the same thing, only this time Sansa held onto the sword and jumped in excitement. They all laughed at how happy she was and she ordered Brienne to try it again.

“Do you think she realizes that Brienne’s not using her actual strength?” Pod asked.

“Shh, don’t damage her confidence,” Arya said with a smile.

“No one worries if she's damaged my confidence,” Pod remarked.

“You’re her squire. You shouldn’t have confidence,” Arya said with a smile. “You’re also, not a lady.”

Tormund frowned and Gendry looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What is happening here?”

“Brienne is trying to teach Sansa how to defend herself.” Pod explained.

Tormund looked at them in confusion. “Why?”

Arya answered. “She needs to learn.”

“Yes, I agree with that. But why is Brienne teaching her?”

“Why can’t I teach her?” Brienne suddenly asked as she stared at him.

Tormund sighed and looked at the group. “Because you would never hurt her. Defeats the purpose of learning to fight if your life isn’t really in danger.”

Gendry was trying to find the logic in the insanity but it didn’t come. Arya chimed in. “So, your issue isn’t that Brienne is a woman...”

Tormund scoffed. “As if that matters. She’s the best one, maybe save your brother, I’ve ever seen with a sword. She should have someone with skill teaching her how to wield it. But there’s no threat, no need to for her learn quickly.”

“I’m not trying to hurt her.”

“And anyone she fights will try to not only hurt her but kill her,” Tormund reasoned.

Gendry frowned. “He’s right.”

Arya looked over at him and shook her head. “No, he isn’t.”

“Yes, he is. You were trained by Syrio, true, but you learned more when your life was on the line,” Gendry responded.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want my life to be on the line. This is a precaution,” Sansa argued. “I’ve barely got a grip on the sword. Let’s not have people start charging me.”

“What is happening here?” Jon’s voice cut through their arguments. He joined the rest of them, albeit slowly and leaned against the crates that Arya was sitting on, causing Pod to move.

“Tormund suggested that Sansa fight someone that wants to hurt her so she learns to use the sword quicker,” Arya answered, obviously knowing the reaction they would get from her brother.

Gendry nearly laughed at the expression on Jon’s face as he turned to his Wildling friend. “That’s how we do it North of the Wall,” Tormund explained. At everyone’s silence, he turned to Jon. “Would you say you were a better fighter before you actually fought in a battle or two or now?”

He was stunned that everyone else seemed to have no argument to this. He saw the merit in it even if he thought it was insane. He already knew the Wildlings, or Free Folk did things differently. “While that might be sound advice for others, I think Sansa can learn well enough without having a sword come to her throat.”

Tormund held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. It’s how I learned,” he said as he stood back and Sansa stared at him apprehensively.

Arya wrapped her arm around Gendry’s shoulders where he leaned against her. He smiled as his hand looped and rubbed against her ankle over her boot. Brienne tried the same move and when Sansa parried and Brienne changed the angle of her sword, she was still holding it. He could feel eyes on him and found that they were Jon’s but he remained silent and turned back to Sansa. He didn’t know what Jon was going to say to him when they eventually talked, but he was sure there would be a threat of some kind.

Brienne withdrew and Sansa turned to Arya. “I want to learn all the spins that you do.”

Arya scoffed. “Because it’s that easy.”

“I know it’s not. But you use a smaller sword and you’re fast. I like that part.”

She shook her head. “I can’t teach you while I’m still injured. Certain unreasonable parties refuse to let me do anything physical until the stitches are removed,” she said as she poked Gendry in the shoulder.

“Yes, I’m the horrible person who won’t allow you to re-injure yourself.”

“But you could show me the wrist movements while you’re sitting.”

Brienne knocked the sword from Sansa’s hand and Jon smiled. “Practice holding onto the sword and then you can learn the water dancing.”

She groaned in frustration. “The sword is heavy.”

Gendry extracted himself from Arya and moved over to Sansa, his hammer in his hand. “Give me your sword.” She handed it over and he dropped his hammer into her hands and she dropped it immediately. “You’ll get comfortable with what you practice with.”

Arya piped up behind him. “What about the knife? It’s small.”

“Also puts someone too close,” Jon responded. Gendry lifted his hammer and gave Sansa back her sword. “You don’t have to practice with a great sword. Maybe the smith has something smaller and more lightweight.”

“Or he could make me something,” Sansa said as she walked away toward the forge.

Gendry moved over to Arya and sighed. “She’s exhausting.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m easier to get along with?”

He barked out a laugh before he could control it and she gave him a sour look, her eyes flashing dangerously, but he didn’t wipe the smile from her face. “You’ve thrown four people out of your room, not to mention two crutches, a book, and a fire poker. You’ve not been easy to get along with.”

“Why have you done all of that?” Jon asked. Brienne muttered something about going to make sure Sansa didn’t put too much of a task on the poor smiths, and Pod and Tormund followed. That left Gendry and Arya alone with Jon.

“Because people keep insisting that I’m hurt and I can’t do things for myself.”

Gendry rolled his eyes. “To be fair, when they originally said that, you’d just been carted off the field bleeding. The tourniquet had only just been removed.”

“Sansa had already said something to me about not wanting me to go South. She made me angry.”

“She said something to me as well,” Jon replied. “She’s worried about you.”

Arya narrowed her eyes. “Did she? And what did you say?”

He sighed. “She asked me if I could dissuade you. I told her that no one would be able to talk you out of something you wanted to do. I have no intention of stopping you. If you want to go South with us then I welcome you at my side.”

Gendry knew there was going to be more to this conversation. Arya sighed and cut off anything else Jon was going to say. “Sansa says you’re getting married.”

He nodded. “I am. What about you?”

Arya rolled her eyes and Gendry smirked. If Jon had to ask then it meant he hadn’t heard Arya’s philosophy on marriage. He only hoped that he didn’t fall down from shock. She didn’t have the most tact.

“I’ll get married if and when I want to. Not before then. And no one will make me.”

Jon looked at Gendry. “And you accept this?”

He furrowed his brow and glanced at Arya. “She’d slit my throat otherwise.”

“When we defeat Cersei, which I’m completely confident we will, will you come back North?”

Arya sighed. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Jon looked at Gendry again. “We’ve already called you Gendry Baratheon to an assembly of Lords. We can do a formal naming if you want.”

Gendry took a deep breath and looked at Arya who stared at him with curiosity. He shook his head. “I’m not one for ceremony.”

Jon heaved a sigh. “Gendry walk with me a moment, won’t you?”

Arya furrowed her brow. “What about me?”

“Can you get down?” Jon asked as both he and Gendry watched her face change to fury.

“With help, I can!”

Jon nodded and smiled. “Good. Gendry?” he gestured in front of him, away from Arya.

“Get me down,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t touch her. Let her do it herself. She’s said how much she hates help,” Jon responded with a half smile.

She scraped together snow and threw it at Jon, but he ducked it though winced as he did. Gendry had already moved away from her and he could hear her groan in frustration as he looked back at her. They stopped on the other side of the wall, out of earshot of Arya, watching for a moment as she assessed her position. Gendry knew if she jumped, then she’d jostle herself too much and would cause more pain. For the moment, she truly was stuck. “Making you the legitimate heir of House Baratheon was an easy decision, one which has some limitations.”

Gendry looked down then met Jon’s eyes. “Which are?”

“You’re...careful. You and I both know what it’s like to grow up bastards. Don’t do that to a child. It’s a hellish existence at times.”

Gendry frowned and nodded. He took a deep breath and looked at the ground for a moment before once more meeting Jon’s eyes. He was one of the few people who knew what it felt like to not belong. “I understand.”

“Making you the heir makes the possibility of you marrying her less of a problem. And should some of the Northron lords start demanding that Arya is married to one of their sons for the sake of a permanent alliance, you’ll say you’re betrothed.”

“And you’ll have a nice pyre constructed for me when she kills me for making such a statement?”

Jon chuckled and glanced at Arya, then back at Gendry. “It’ll be decent enough. It’s for her safety. You know that.”

“Knowing it and convincing her of it are two different things. I’ll talk to her.”

Jon nodded. “I hope you do. You better go get her before she kills you.”

Gendry looked over his shoulder at Arya who was glaring at him. “Good to see you up moving around.” He walked away from Jon and back to a fuming Arya.

“You’re going to tell me what he said...” she demanded as he walked closer.

“Am I now? Are you really in a position to tell me what to do?”

“I’ll make you suffer,” she warned.

He shrugged. “I can leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Sure of yourself are you?”

She smiled and tugged the front of his tunic to bring him closer. “If you don’t tell me what he said you can join the Unsullied.”

He smiled. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“No. More of a warning to not let you have a bastard. Things you and I have talked about. He did show some concern that some of the Northron lords might demand that you marry one of their sons for an alliance. And should that happen, we announce we’re betrothed, whether or not we are.”

She frowned. “Feels like a trick to get me to marry you.”

“I told you, I’ll take you however I can get you. I would never trick you into marrying me. I love you. If you choose to marry me, so be it.”

Arya was silent for a moment and frowned. “I hate all of this. Lords trading in their children for alliances that don’t last. It makes whatever happened before seem meaningless. It seems to me all alliances end at some point. You can never trust everyone to hold to their word.”

Gendry frowned. “No, you can’t. I learned a long time ago that you can’t trust people to be honorable.” He traced the lace of her boot along her ankle and then looked up at her. “Then again, sometimes you meet people that surprise you. Yoren protected the both of us, gave his life trying to protect us. You turned out to be honorable. Your brother. Seems to me, the Dragon Queen, Brienne, even that Wildling fellow all seem to be people of honor. They exist, they’re simply rare.”

She smiled and held out her hand. “Help me down from here,” she said and he took her hand and put it on his shoulder as he lifted her from the boxes and put her on her feet. He picked up her crutch from where it had fallen and handed it to her. “Where to, m’lady?”

“Don’t make me throw this at you,” she said with a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Arya VII

Chapter Summary

Jon and Daenerys talk to Gendry and Arya about their plans south. Arya finally gets what she wants.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all of your support for this story!

ARYA

“My lady?” Arya stopped walking and turned to Maester Wolken, who no matter how many times she told not to call her that insisted. She’d stopped correcting him days ago. Gendry turned as well, always at her side, his Warhammer in his hand at his side. If she had been Sansa or any other foolish girls that thought she needed protecting, she would have found his constant presence at her side romantic. Arya was beyond that. Or so she told everyone that would listen, including her protector. She would never allow him to know how much she liked him being with her. He already knew she cared about him, more than she would like to admit. She scoffed at herself. It was more than care.  
She loved him.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Your brother has requested an audience with you and Lord Gendry.”

She tried to keep herself from laughing as Gendry rolled his eyes at the title. “Bran or Jon?”

“King Jon,” he responded. “He’s in his study.”

She nodded and sighed. Her current adversary was stairs. She could make it up to them, but it was a long and laborious procedure. Some days she wished Gendry would get frustrated with her slow pace and simply carry her up the flight. He didn’t, and she didn’t ask. She could do it herself, though it took a lot out of her. She knew if she climbed the flight to see Jon, she would not walk back down them the rest of the day. They would simply retire to their room where she would try her hardest to seduce Gendry. He was being more bullheaded than ever and it was frustrating. She wasn’t incapable of doing anything, but he wouldn’t relent and it was causing her ire to peak more than usual. If she was honest, her irritation at Gendry refusing her had caused her to throw her crutch at Brienne. Sansa deserved it.

Arya gave him and nod and they changed course into the keep. “Wonder if he’s going to insist we get married.”

Gendry shook his head. “If he was going to do that he would have said something earlier.”

As they entered the castle, she put a little more weight on her leg. She could feel the muscle stretching and even where the skin was pulled together. She hated feeling so weak. She was one of the deadliest killers in all of Winterfell, but now she was being beaten by her own body. Gendry followed behind her as she made her way up the stairs, putting her foot down and actually distributing her weight more evenly. She smiled in triumph as she made it up the stairs in half the time she had the day before. Arya only hoped he would take that as a sign that she was truly on the mend and that he didn’t have to treat her like she was going to break if he touched her.

She knocked on the study door and Daenerys opened it to let them in. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Jon’s voice stopped her. “Actually, it might be best if you stayed.”

Arya and Gendry moved inside and she moved to stand before him where he was sitting. Jon nodded at the chair for Arya to sit but she hated being told what to do and so she refused. Gendry, however, put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her backward into the seat and she glared up at him. “I will hurt you.”

“So you keep saying,” he said, looking unintimidated by the threat.

Daenerys had walked to stand beside Jon, a soft smile on her face. “You seem to be getting around better.”

“I’m moving around well enough. Once people stop treating me like I’ll break, I’ll be even better.”

“Daenerys and I have been talking about the war to come. We defeated the dead, but Cersei still sits on the Iron Throne and the people suffer for it.”

Arya nodded. “No surprise there.”

Jon sighed. “We believe have an army that can defeat her. But we need to remove her allies, anyone that could be loyal to her.”

Gendry frowned. “You want Arya to kill them?”

Jon glanced up at Daenerys and then shook his head. “No. We need the heir to Robert Baratheon.”

Arya looked up at Gendry and could see his face pale. “Need me for what?”

“You’re the heir to the Storm Lands. To Storm’s End. It’s one of the large houses of the South. We’ve already called you Robert’s son. It would only take a word from us to the Citadel to make you Gendry Baratheon on paper. But, more importantly, we need you to be Gendry Baratheon.”

“Why?”

“We want you to go to Storm’s End. We want you to see if you can rally them to our side.”

Arya shook her head. “And what if they decide they don’t want to honor Robert’s son? What if they decide to kill him?”

“That’s why you’d go with him.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to King’s Landing. I will be the one to kill Cersei.”

Jon shook his head. “We need something different from you, Arya. We need you to go with him, to make his claim. We need a Lady of Winterfell, a true Lady of the North, to be united with the heir to Storm’s End. I’m not saying you have to marry him. I would never force that on you. But I do need you to be aligned.”

“And if they refuse?”

“We’re not sending you alone. You will go with a host of Dothraki and Unsullied.”

“So, you want me to ride South, claim Storm’s End with foreign warriors?”

Arya shook her head. “This is a bad idea.”

“Are you saying that because you want to be the one to kill Cersei or do you actually believe it to be a bad idea?” Daenerys asked, her eyebrow raising slightly. Arya felt unease at how well she was able to read her. When she continued to speak, Arya begrudgingly respected her more, “I understand wanting revenge. Wanting to watch everyone who’s caused you nothing but misery to die. But sometimes we have to serve a higher purpose. Jon doesn’t wish to be King. But he is the heir. He is the King I choose. We all do things we don’t want to do because it will make other people’s lives better.”

Gendry scowled. “This is mad. Why would anyone follow me?”

Jon smirked. “I ask myself that all the time. You know who you are. It’s hard when most of your life you question why you were even born, much less is the world better because you’re here. If anyone understands that, I do. I don’t want to be King. I thought at most I would be First Ranger of the Night’s Watch. I was content with that. Fate has given me something different. I can still protect the realm, but better now than I could have before.”

Arya frowned. “What is it you want us to do?”

“We’ll send word to the Citadel that we’ve legitimized you as Gendry Baratheon. We’ll let them distribute word. And we’ll have Varys’s little birds send word back if there is interest in having you claim the Storm Lands. If there is, we would send you south before us, both of you, and ask you to take what belonged to your father. You come from a line of men who knew what they wanted and what they were. I met Stannis. He was absolute in his right to be King. I need you to be absolute in your right to the Storm Lands.”

He shook his head. “This is asking a lot.”

Jon frowned and nodded. “It is. It’s a heavy burned that we’re laying on you. Both of you. Cersei will be defeated, how remains to be seen. But we need to at least try this approach.”

“It puts a target on Gendry,” Arya said. “All of this puts everyone here in danger. Not only is the King in the North aligned with the Mother of Dragons, but now you’re asking Gendry to be the legitimate heir to Robert Baratheon. What do you think Cersei will do? We’ll be lucky she doesn’t try to have us all slaughtered in our beds.”

Jon nodded. “Which is why we’re discussing this. I wouldn’t do anything without asking you. I called you Gendry Baratheon in a hall of Lords because I wanted them to respect you as someone other than my sister’s...consort.” Arya nearly smiled at how hard it was for Jon to say the word ‘consort’, but the seriousness of the situation blocked any of the levity out of it. “They needed to know a warrior was on the field. Robert’s fight with Rhaegar in the Trident is one of legend. You have a war hammer. Many of those men fought alongside your father. They respect the name. Others will as well.”

Arya looked up at Gendry and could see he was conflicted. She turned back to Jon and Daenerys. “You’ll let us discuss it?”

Daenerys nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Jon won’t be ready to march south anytime soon. And we still have a wedding to occupy our time until then.”

Arya nodded and stood. She took a deep breath and looked at them, Daenerys’s hand still nestled in Jon’s. “I’m sorry you can’t have children.”

Daenerys smiled weakly at her. “Thank you.”

She gave one last nod and they left the room. Gendry leaned against the wall once the door was shut then dropped his hammer against the stone. He put his head in his hands, her heart ached for him, and so she reached out and touched his shoulder. “Gendry?” He looked up at her, frustration and anger written over his features. She stepped closer to him. “Let’s retire and we’ll talk,” she whispered.

He gave her a nod and followed her down the hall, and noticed that the hammer seemed to be heavier to him now.

*~*

Arya had dinner brought up to her room for both of them and he had remained silent since they had returned. She thought he would start talking, but she should have known that the stubborn bull wouldn’t relent so easily. They ate in silence as well and it was starting to make her angry.

When they finished and she watched him remove his jerkin, she knew she would have to be the one to talk first. She was seated on the edge of the bed and had removed one boot and was slowly working on the other. “I thought we were going to talk.”

He pulled his tunic over his head and dropped it to the floor. She was nearly distracted from the seriousness of the conversation by the fact that a shirtless Gendry left her somewhat breathless.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said as he sat beside her on the bed. “I never intended any of this when I told Jon who I was.”

“I know. You’re nothing if not humble.”

He sighed. “What do you think?”

“I think the whole idea is flawed. It’s asking people to believe something that no one can confirm.” She looped her arms through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “It feels so much bigger than us.”

“It is. It’s about the good of the realm.”

She looked up at him and leaned her forehead against his shoulder and entwined his fingers with hers. “I simply wanted to ride south and kill Cersei. It seems as if that’s being taken from me.”

“And a new burden is being put in place,” he responded.

“It would technically make you the heir after Jon and Daenerys. You could sit on the Iron Throne.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s all I need,” he muttered and she smiled. “If they live long enough, Jon and Daenerys, then it could potentially be our children that would sit on the throne.”

“Children? You think I’m having more than one?”

He smiled. “I don’t care. I only wanted to be with you. The fact that any of this is happening is...more than I ever thought I would get. But I’m not sure I want any of it.”

Arya nodded. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“This is beyond frustrating,” he responded, squeezing her hand.

She nodded. “I’m sorry. This sends all of our plans to the wayside.”

“Using the ‘good of the realm’ was rather ingenious. It’s hard to say ‘no’ when you think you could potentially save the lives of thousands of people.”

She stood and put her hands on his knees. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you. Gendry Baratheon or Gendry Waters, you’re still my stubborn bull.” She turned her back to him. “Now help me get this thing off,” she ordered.

He began untying the laces. “I know one thing, even if I did accept their offer, you’d still order me around.”

She smirked. “Why would that change?”

He finished and tugged it over her head and pulled her closer by her tunic. “I don’t want it to.” She leaned forward and kissed him, her hands cupping his face. “Let’s not start something we won’t finish...”

“Don’t give me that,” Arya huffed. “You’re going to finish me,” she said as she bit at his lips.

He smirked against her lips. “Oh, am I?” She tugged her tunic off with her one good arm and pressed her lips to his as she moved her hands down to the laces of his leathers. He captured her wrists and pulled away from her. He released one of her hands and brought his fingers to the bandage that sat around her shoulder. “I know you hate this and me for saying it, but you’re still injured and I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head and moved even closer to him. “You won’t. I promise. If you do, you know I’ll tell you,” she said as her lips moved down his neck.

She felt his fingers on the bare skin of her back and gooseflesh where Gendry touched. “You make it very hard to say ‘no’.”

She grinned against his skin. “I want to make it impossible.” She dropped her hands back to the laces and slipped her hands inside and he groaned her name as she felt him swell beneath her fingers. He gasped as she pumped over his heated flesh.

He grabbed her wrists and stopped her again and he stood. She was nearly ready to throw him out when she felt him untie the top of her leathers and then tugged them down gently. He turned them so her back was against the bed and he pushed her to sit as he tugged her breeches gently down her legs, always mindful of her injury. He pulled her to the very edge of the bed and before she could protest at his manhandling of her, he was on his knees in front of her and his tongue was moving through her folds. She braced herself on her good arm and held the back of his head in place with her other. She’d been wanting this for so long, she could already feel her body trembling in response to him. He sucked her clit into his mouth and she fell back on the bed, helpless under his tongue.

“Gen-dry,” she moaned, nearly breathless as each swipe of his tongue brought her closer. She was pulled tight like a bow, so close to snapping. She nearly screamed when he pulled away from her and stood. But as he shed his leathers, she smiled in triumph. He couldn’t help himself either.

“You're okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll be better when you’re inside me,” she groaned as he rubbed himself against her folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit. He put her good leg over his shoulder and her breath caught as he entered her in one hard thrust.

Gendry braced his hands on the bed by her shoulders, each stroke a long slow pull out before slamming his hips forward hard. She slid her hands over his arms and up to his shoulders and finally cupping his face, locking eyes with his. Arya could see his affection for her on his face, the moments with him like this being when he was the most unguarded.

She was creating closer and closer and he changed the pace of his thrust shorter and more shallow. Arya rolled her hips against his, getting the friction she needed and she snapped, her climax rolling over her, causing her to shake beneath him. She was beyond thought or words. It had been too long. She barely registered his groan and only opened her eyes in time to watch him drop his head, his face scrunched up as he gasped her name.

She smiled, feeling spent and content. It was a few moments before Gendry withdrew from her and stood back. He grimaced. “Fuck,” he said as he moved away from her and over to the table beside the bed to grab fresh linens. She looked down and saw that the bandage around her leg had red splotches on it.

As she sat up, she could see that he was angry. She stilled his hands. “Stop. You didn’t hurt me.” He didn’t look convinced. “I wouldn’t lie to you. You know that. It doesn’t hurt. In fact, this is the best I’ve felt in over a week.”

“You’re still bleeding.”

She cupped his face, a teasing smile on her face. “Barely.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. He tugged his leathers on once more and went about replacing her bandage. She stared at him, his face a study in concentration as he examined the wound. None of the stitches had come undone, but the seem of the wound was bleeding a bit.  
Maybe they simply needed to get more creative in how they did it. When he tied off the bandage he threw the soiled linen onto the table beside the bed. She continued to smile at him and he looked aggrieved. “Proud of yourself?”

She nodded. “I am. Aren’t you?”

“I’ll answer that when you stop bleeding.”

She rolled her eyes. “How can you be so unhappy after that?”

He sighed and put his hands on either side of her hips and leaned forward. “I’m not unhappy about that and you know it.”

Arya smirked and kissed him. “I’m not hurt, I promise. I wouldn’t let you hurt me. You know that, right?”

He nodded. “Let’s see how you feel in the morning.”

“And if I’m fine we can do it again?”

He tilted his head a wary smile on his lips. She loved him. She wondered if that made her weaker or stronger. “Well, it would be wrong to waste the opportunity...”

Arya smiled in response, knowing that he made her stronger. There was no weakness in them. They were certain about one another. If the rest of the world were so easy to figure out as her feelings for him, then the wars would be over and the killing would be done. He was hers. She was his. “So, I should appeal to your sense of right and wrong?” He smirked at her and she bit gently along his jaw to his ear and whispered. “Then you owe me days worth of your mouth and cock.”

The sound of his chuckle shot straight through her and caused her to shiver. “You have a filthy mouth for a lady.”

She grinned. “You have no idea.” She could see that he was clenching his teeth and she brought his lips against hers, tasting herself on his tongue.

His arms moved around her waist and he broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “I wish it could just be us, forever.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. Never in her life had she imagined that she would be able to bring someone comfort. But she would try for the man in front of her. “It will be us, forever. We simply might have other things that go along with it.”

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips then her nose. “You should get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

He sighed. “Not sure I can sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you. Take off your pants and get in this bed," she laughed, hoping she broke the seriousness of the moment and when Gendry chuckled, she knew she had succeeded a bit.

“You’re really determined when you want something.” He pulled back from her though, walked to the other side of the bed and shed his pants as she requested. She moved over to him and lay facing him, her head resting on his bicep as his fingers traced over her back. He pulled the furs over them and she fit snugly against him.

“All joking aside, I’m with you. Whatever you do. I’m at your side,” she whispered.

He turned towards her a bit more, his other arm resting on her hip. He rested his lips against her brow and she heard him sigh. She hated this had all been laid upon him, but she knew they would survive this. Whatever Gendry decided, he was her future and she wouldn’t leave him to go through any of it alone.

Gendry VII

Chapter Summary

Gendry speaks with Davos and makes a decision. In an effort to tell Arya, they're interrupted by Bran...who is again changing.

GENDRY VII

Gendry sat in the forge, ignoring the people moving around him. It would be easy to get lost in the clang of steel, the smell of the burning fire, the unmistakable flash of the hammer hitting a blade. The others in the room ignored him as he did them, his own war hammer, forged by his own hands, leaned against the box he was sitting on. He knew that no matter how much his life changed, there would always be something about the forge that allowed him to lose himself in his thoughts. It centered him, kept him grounded.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Davos entered and made his way over to him. He liked the smuggler. Davos treated him fairly, had come to get him when he knew that war was going to come to King's Landing. He had intended to hide him and who he was, but Gendry had shattered that illusion and not allowed them to keep who he really was from Jon. Why had he done that? Now, it seemed like a mistake.

"I bet now you're wishing you had listened to me," Davos said and Gendry thought it was eerie that the old man knew exactly what was moving through his mind.

"As a matter of fact, I was," he said softly. He watched the hammer clang against the anvil and sword and he rolled his eyes at watching the young apprentice miss the sword and knew he would have to fix the blade. "How did I go from being a bastard smith to the potential legitimate heir to Robert Baratheon?"

"You don't know how to keep your mouth closed when you need to," Davos joked. "Do you wish you didn't know who you were?"

"To not have to make this decision? Yes."

"So, are you going to accept?"

"Undecided. I'm actually tired of talking about it."

"I take it the lady is forcing you to make a decision?"

He shook his head. "No. She's helped me go through all scenarios. My mind hurts. I don't know how much more discussion about it I can take."

"Well, prepare yourself because you and I are going to discuss it."

"Can we not?"

Davos smirked. "No. You're afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid. Not just of death," he explained. "I can't figure out why anyone who hadn't met me would trust me. I don't know anything about being a Lord or running a keep. I can keep myself alive, and Arya if need be. But hundreds of people? I can't fathom that."

"Let's look at the alternative. You told me that you were preparing all your life for something. What if this was that thing? What if you were told who you were because this was what was eventually going to happen? Jon wouldn't have laid this at your feet if he didn't think you were the right person. I know that much about him."

Gendry shook his head. "That's just it. Why? What have I done that sparks any sort of confidence? I'm prepared to follow, not lead."

Davos sat on the box beside him. "I'll admit, this whole thing does seem a bit strange. What are the chances that you go on the run with the King's sister? I'm sure the same odds that Jon was made King of the North. He was raised a bastard, believed all his life that his uncle was his father, still considers Ned Stark his father. Yet, people put their trust in him because time after time he put their needs before his own." He looked over at Gendry. "You did that when you went beyond the wall with him. You proved your loyalty, and though you didn't trust Beric and Thoros, you fought alongside them. Jon trusts you enough to allow whatever is happening between you and his sister to continue with no fuss from him."

He sighed. "A lot of that stuff was just that it felt like the right thing to do."

"Good. That means you have a noble sense of what's right and wrong. Cersei doesn't. And those people in King's Landing have suffered under her rule, you know that. So, why are you really hesitating?"

"I don't deserve any of this."

"It's rare that people who come into power deserve it. I know of a few exceptions." He frowned. "This is a lot to ask of you. But they need you, the king and queen. They wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't important. We all discussed it, I advocated to leave you out of it, but I realize the merit in what they've done. You're going to be more than Gendry Waters, a bastard from Flea Bottom. You're the heir to Robert Baratheon, possibly the only one alive, though I don't think we'll ever know if that's the case. Cersei and Joffrey saw to it that all of his bastards were dead. You survived. Why?"

"Fucking luck, that's why."

Davos smirked. "If that's the case, then don't worry about this part. You can find people to teach you how to be a lord of the keep. You can find advisors to trust who would help you. Hell, I'd help you. But if they're asking you to do this, it's because they need you. Being Robert Baratheon's bastard makes you more than just your blood. And if you're afraid of being like Robert, Renly and Stannis were also honorable men. Stannis...made horrible decisions in the face of religion, but he did have honor."

"Do you really think I could do this?"

"Do you think I would be out here trying to lift your spirits if I thought you would fail?"

Gendry thumped the back of his head against the stone. "I'm almost positive that I will fuck all of this up."

Davos shrugged. "Probably. But ask Jon how many times he failed on his way to being king. He was fucking killed for it."

"I don't think we're all lucky enough to come back from the dead."

He sighed. "No, that's reserved for a special few, I think." They were both silent for a few moments and then Davos's voice brought him out of his thoughts about failure and people starving and dying because he was stupid. "What does your lady say?"

He sighed. "Just that she's with me. No matter what I choose."

"Are you going to marry her?"

"If she'd let me," he said with a smirk. "Right now she's refusing because it's what people would want."

"What do you want?"

"Honestly? To fuck my life away with her and no one else."

Davos smiled. "That is the dream, isn't it? But maybe not a reality."

Gendry sighed. "What is my reality? go to Storm's End, hope they want to recognize me, and if they don't hope I don't die as I escape."

"That's the plan, yes."

He shook his head. "I'm fine with fighting in a battle. I sort of like it. But I don't know how to play these games of politics. Arya's no politician either. She'd rather kill people than negotiate. How are we supposed to rule anything?"

"Practice. I'm sure you'll make mistakes. Everyone does. The fact that you're so concerned about this gives me hope that you might be the right man for the job.”

Gendry lifted his hammer into his hands, examining the stag on the neck. He’d carved it at first as a rebellion against the Lannisters. Now he was being asked to take over all that the name meant. Lord of Storm’s End. Could Arya really be happy being with a Lord? Would she be happy being a Lady? Would she tired of him and their position in the world? It was a never-ending torment of questions without answers.

“I suppose I need to find Arya and speak with her,” he said with a groan and stood.

“Have you made a decision? I’m not asking what it is, I’m simply asking if you’ve made one.”

He sighed. “I believe so,” he said before he left the forge and went in search of Arya.

*~*

He found her in the hall sitting with the Hound, Brienne, and Podrick. The squire was seated beside her, and he really wanted to make it clear to him that he would kill him if he so much as looked at Arya. But when she turned her grey eyes to him, she gave him a half smile that sort of made his stomach flip.

The Hound glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Girl, you could hide your lust better,” he said before he took a swig of his drink.

She turned a glare to the Hound. “Shut up.”

He stopped at the end of the table. “Let’s go talk,” he said to her and she nodded and stood. She finished the drink in her goblet, then followed him outside and through the gates to the Godswood. He wanted privacy and hoped it would be here. Luckily, Bran wasn’t in the Godswood and they were alone.

He turned to face her when they stood in front of the Heart Tree. “I think I’m going to do it.” She raised her eyebrows at his statement, but she didn’t let through whether she was happy or not. That made him nervous. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’m still terrified of the prospect, but I want people to have better lives. I grew up in Flea Bottom. I know what the poor suffer. I want to help alleviate some of it. I can do that in Storm’s End.”

“What made you decide?”

“Faith. Not in religion. Not even in me. Faith that you and I are...we can do this together if you’ll have me.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

He shook his head. “If we decide to get married it will be our choice, yours and mine. I know, though, I have no chance of pulling this off without you.”

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You have me. Always.”

He tilted his head. “It makes me a Lord, something you dislike.”

“But I like you. I can put up with the title. As long as you don’t start wearing perfume we’ll be fine.”

He smirked. “No perfume. I swear it.”

She leaned up on her toes and kissed him. He cupped her face in his hands and slid his tongue against her lips. They were interrupted by a voice clearing behind them and turned to see Bran smiling. Gendry hadn’t seen the boy do that the entire time he’d been here. “You finally made your choice. Good,” he said as he stared at Gendry.

He released Arya at the look of the Maester. Arya moves over to Bran and bid the Maester farewell as she began to push her brother towards the crying tree. “Are you going to spend the rest of your life beside this tree?”

Bran sighed. “No. I’m...starting to remember what it feels like to be Brandon Stark. My mind's not so consumed with darkness and trying to defeat the Night King. I’ve found...something close to peace. If anything I’m closer to mourning all I’ve lost.”

Gendry felt like he should leave Arya and her brother. “I’m sorry, Bran.”

“I hadn’t mourned Rickon. I watched...of course, I watched. Jon’s face...” he heaved a sigh and looked at his sister. “Sansa made Ramsay pay. Just like you took revenge on the Frey’s. But I’ve seen so much that I had to push Bran away. I couldn’t be him and be the three-eyed raven. But with the Night King gone, something just awoke in me.”

Arya’s face softened as she stepped towards her brother. “Good. We need you. You could be exactly the thing we need to defeat Cersei.”

“What do you want to know?”

Arya smiled. “What do you think we need to know?”

He looked down for a moment and Gendry watched as his face became resolute. He noticed that all of the Starks had it. When they were determined, their eyes focused, a hardness came over their faces. Whatever it was they had decided it would be their enemy’s undoing.

“Take me to Jon and Daenerys.”


	8. Chapter 8

Gendry VIII

Chapter Summary

Gendry is legitimized and he and Arya celebrate!

GENDRY

Gendry looked himself over in the mirror, amazed at the detail that had gone into making this heavy leather jerkin. The leather had been dyed black, but the stitching holding it together and the thread that had emblazoned a stag over his heart was a golden thread. The cloak he'd been given was much more simple than that of the Northron lords. It was black and the small amount of fur that trimmed it was a dark black as well. As an attendant followed the exuberant Sansa Stark's direction from behind him about how to wrap the cloak over his left arm to leave his right free, he realized it somewhat matched what Arya had on in style. He didn't know if Sansa was trying to dress them alike or if it was an accident. Sansa reached forward a handed the man a harness that was strapped into place. He was instructed to drop his hammer into it, which he did. It amazed him how it took the weight and distributed it across his upper and lower spine. He didn't know how they had managed that, but he thought, for a second, he could pass for a Lord.

His eyes met Arya's in the looking glass. Her face was emotionless and Sansa stepped forward and gave a few remaining tweaks to Gendry's jerkin, making sure the toggled and clasps were well hidden. Before he knew what was happening, Arya had moved her sister out of the way with a glare. "Stop fretting over him. You're making him nervous."

Gendry didn't want Sansa to think he was being rude. "Really, Arya, it's fine. All of this is making me nervous, not just people fussing over me."

Arya looked at Sansa and smiled. "Give us a minute."

Sansa hesitated then folded her arms over her chest. "No. Every time I leave the room I know what the two of you do and you're not going to do that now and ruin these clothes."

Gendry smirked at Arya who only glared at her sister. "Get out, now."

They two Stark girls were staring one another down until Sansa finally relented. "Fine. But I'm standing outside this door!" she said as she left the room. "And I can hear if you two start doing anything!"

Arya rolled her eyes but turned back to Gendry. "Why are you nervous?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, just needing the comfort of touching her. "Because this is not what I ever intended when I told your brother who I was. I thought I would be a fighter, maybe, hopefully...reunite with you, and at most be a warrior at his side. Having you seemed a dream. An unobtainable one because how could you, a high-born lady, ever want a bastard like me. Add Jon and Daenerys asking me to take my place as my father's son to help rule his keep and align with them...it's a lot to take."

She nodded. "I know. It's asking a lot. But, I know this. Jon wouldn't have done this to or for you if he didn't believe that you could handle it."

"I feel like an imposter, Arya. I agreed to this, but at the same time...I still feel like a bastard. I still feel like people will look down upon me because of the circumstances of my birth."

Arya shook her head. "People are going to do that whether or not you become a Lord. At least now you can make them suffer for it."

He chuckled. "What are you going to do? Kill anyone who says a bad word about me?"

"Well, hopefully, if I kill enough people they'll learn to stop."

"My assassin," he said as he cupped her face and kissed her.

She pulled away and her eyes stared into his. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"We can finish it later."

"And do you want to go into the hall and named Gendry Baratheon all the while hard for the King's sister?"

Gendry took a step back from her and released her. "I think not."

"Sansa, you can come in," Arya called and her sister opened and entered.

Along with Davos. "They're ready for you."

"Arya," Sansa said with a smile. "You're to come with me to the hall."

"Why can't I go with Gendry?"

"You're a representative of House Stark. Come along."

Arya gave him a quick peck on the lips and then walked away with her sister. Davos gave Gendry a once over and shook his head. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were a young Stannis or Robert standing in front of me."

"No, Ser. I'm Gendry."

"Aye, Lad. You are. Let's go see to it that you're a Baratheon."

*~*

Gendry entered the room as two guards held the door open for him. He strode in with more confidence than he actually felt. He took note that the Lords and Ladies of the north, save the Starks, were lined up to the left of Jon Snow, while the others, Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, even the squire Podrick, who he wanted to hate but the man made it nearly impossible were at the right of the queen. Jon and Daenerys stood at the front of the room in front of the fire. The normal able that usually sat in front of the hearth was gone. Sansa, Arya, and Bran were lined just to the back of Jon's left shoulder, and Davos joined him. Tyrion, Missandei, Tales, and the new Dothraki blood riders, who looked worse for wear, stood behind them. He felt butterflies the size of Drogon flying through his stomach. Sansa and Arya had been helping him go over what to say. Arya had played that game with Jon when they were younger, as the man had wanted nothing more than to be a Stark. She knew the words. Jon knew the words. But now he was going to be more of a Stark. He was a Targaryen as well. As he came to stand in front of Jon and Daenerys, he noticed the crowns and it only made this moment more surreal.

Daenerys's crown came to a peak perfectly aligned with her nose. The thin strands of silver made it appear as if it would break. As he stared at it, the large red ruby in the center initially drew his attention. However, he noticed that the strands of silver weren't simply strands of silver ropes, they were the bodies of dragons. It was masterful work. Jon's was a bit different. His silver crown was more understated, and from a distance, all he could see was a diamond set amongst three rubies, but he realized the diamond was the eye of a direwolf and the red were the three heads of the dragon representing the Targaryen's. It was simple enough when far away, but up close, they were both amazing.

He was broken from his thoughts when Daenerys's voice rang out. "What is your name?"

"Gendry Waters, bastard son of Robert Baratheon," he said firmly. He was going to let go of Waters. It would no longer be his name. He hoped he didn't forget from where he came. He'd worked so hard to learn skills and to be a decent person. He hoped that he could be more than his name. He'd wished for it before, now he was praying to the Gods that he didn't fuck everything up and become undeserving of all of this.

Jon withdrew Longclaw and pressed the tip of the sword into the floor and gave him a small smile and nodded. "Gendry Waters, kneel."

Daenerys spoke again. "I, Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains, and Hero for the Dawn, name you Gendry Baratheon, true heir to Storm’s End and the legitimate son of Robert Baratheon."

"And I, Aegon Targaryen, of House Stark and Targaryen," he said as he looked over at Daenerys who smiled, "King of the Seven Kingdoms, Friend to the Free Folk, Lord Commander of The Night's Watch, The Undead, and Hero for the Dawn, name you Gendry Baratheon, true heir to Storm’s End and the legitimate son of Robert Baratheon." Gendry reached behind him and removed his hammer and placed the head of it to the ground, the stag emblazoned on the hilt shining in the candlelight as Arya had insisted it be cleaned before the ceremony.

"Rise, Gendry Baratheon, first of his name, heir to Storm’s End," they said in unison and Gendry stood up, holding his head high as he looked at Daenerys and Jon.

Daenerys was the first to speak again. "Do you, Gendry Baratheon swear fealty to House Stark and House Targaryen?"

"Now and until the end of my house," he responded.

Jon. "My Lords."

Daenerys. "My Ladies."

"As rightful King and Queen to the Seven Kingdoms, we present to you, Gendry Baratheon, first of his name, legitimate son of Robert Baratheon and rightful heir to Storm's End."

The Maester stepped forward and presented a book to Jon and Daenerys that they both signed and it was then presented to Gendry. Davos had shown him how to sign his name and he did so quickly, not wanting anyone to see that he was unsure of the swirls and flicks of the quill. He would need to learn to read and write. He would need to learn quickly. He'd have to tell Arya, but would she judge him harshly for it? He shook his head and knew that she probably already guessed that he didn't know how to put quill to parchment.

Once the ceremony was over, a guard appeared with a box and Jon helped Daenerys remove her crown and she his as they placed them into the box. The guard was told to watch them with his life and if anything happened to them under his watch, they'd be killed. Tyrion was less menacing than the look he received from Arya who only nodded to tell him that she would hold him to it as well. Gendry took a deep breath and Jon stepped forward and shook his hand. "Thank you for doing this."

Gendry shook his head. "Thank you for asking me. I hope I can live up to your expectations."

"Never doubted you," Jon said with a small smiled.

Arya stepped forward and took Gendry's hand in hers and turned him to her then hugged him. "I'm proud of you."

"Not embarrassed by my new status as a Lord?"

"Mortified," she said with a smile. "You didn't stutter through it once, though. Much better than when we practiced."

He leaned down to whisper into her ear. "Your tits were in my face when you decided I needed to practice."

She mock-gasped. "What sort of Lord are you to speak to a Lady in such a way?" she whispered back.

"The only kind you'd tolerate," he laughed.

She nodded and rolled her eyes. "Too true."

Tyrion's voice sounded. "The King and Queen have invited you to stay and have supper with us to celebrate Gendry Baratheon, first of his name."

*~*

Hours later, when the castle had once again grown silent and he and Arya had finally made it back to his room, she took him from his thoughts as he stared at the hammer in his hands as he realized she was standing in front of him. "You know what's stupid?"

Arya frowned and shook her head. "What?"

"I thought I would feel different. More certain about all of it," he stood and leaned his hammer against the wall by Needle. "If anything the doubt has become greater."

Arya turned him to face her and then began to undo the clasps and toggles that held together the leather of his jerkin that Sansa had made. "If you weren't nervous, that would be stupid," she said finally. Her fingers worked slowly and he simply stared down at her face and he swallowed thickly. "I am going to need your help with something." Her eyes drifted down his body and settled on the burgeoning erection that strained against his leathers. He smirked. "Well, yes, that soon. But actually, I...I need you to teach me how to read and write."

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. "That's not stupid, Gendry. Not all."

"It's not? I feel like I'm a bit too old to be making the request."

She finally shoved the leather over his shoulders and she placed it on the chest at the foot of her bed. "You're never too old to learn something new. And you do need to learn. You should know, though, I don't have a lot of patience teaching someone something."

He barked out a laugh. "I know that. But I trust you to help me. You love me and you won't judge me."

Arya chuckled. "I will do it only for you."

Gendry nodded and tugged his tunic over his head and tossed it to the chest with his jerkin. Arya smiled and slid her nails over his back and to his leather-clad hips then thighs. "I'm under strict orders to get these clothes off of you before we do anything."

He smirked at the mischievous smile across her lips. "You have no intention of doing that, do you?"

"I don't like to be given orders. Keep that in mind," she said as she pushed him to sit on one of the chairs beside the fire. She stood in front of him and stripped her clothes off, with Gendry's help.

When she threw her tunic over her head, he leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth and helped her get her leathers off once she'd removed her boots. He tugged her into his lap, a knee dangling over his hips. Gendry was thankful that it wasn't one of those overstuffed chairs with the arms. Having her settled on his lips, her head thrown back as his hands and lips explored her body was what he needed to help alleviate some of the stress of the day. Her hands helped unlace his breeches, but she didn't try to tug them over his hips, but instead pulled him from beneath the ties and stroked him a few times. Gendry bit at the area around her nipple, slicked his fingers with the wetness of her then ran them over her other nipple. She faltered in her stokes as he switched breasts and licked the taste of her from her skin. Her hand was warm and the erratic pace of her caused his head to spin a bit. He struggled against the urge to grab her hand and make them more even with more purpose, but nothing would take him from tasting her.

He slipped his fingers through her folds again, this time using his thumb to trace around her clit, but not touch it. She moaned in frustration and he smiled against her skin, sliding one finger inside of her. He knew it was only enough to send her into a heightened state of arousal, but she liked to be filled in order to get off, and he wouldn't allow her to do that until he was seated inside her. For now, he was content to taste the saltiness of her skin. He felt for a moment that maybe he neglected her breasts when they spent time together. He made a vow he would never do so again and smiled against her skin.

"The onl-y reason you get to smile right now is that you-you’re going to give me more," she stumbled through the words even as she rode his hand. She was wet and hot and he licked his lips simply thinking of being buried inside. He teased around her sex with his finger, not sliding it inside her as she wanted. She squirmed over him, cursing him. She didn't beg. That wasn't her style and never would be. She threatened. But her threats were always threats of things she was going to do to him after she eventually got what she wanted. His favorite was always that she was going to sit on his face and make it so he couldn't breathe. He looked forward to the day she followed through on that one. He kicked his boots off, removed his fingers from inside her. Her loud groan filled the room and he knew she would scratch the hell out of his back when he finally filled her. He lifted her into his arms and walked the short distance to the bed and climbed onto it with her. "Gendry," she moaned when she felt his tongue against her folds. Again, he denied her what she wanted. He smiled as she had grown tired to his insistence on not giving her what she wanted and started to manhandle him. But he thwarted her at every turn and finally pinned both of her hands over her head.

"Shouldn't you do what I say?" He asked and the look she gave him was predatory.

"You're with the wrong woman if you think that's how this works."

She continued to struggle against his grip, but his tongue flicked out over her breast and she moaned. He saw her smile despite herself. He released her hands and he was stunned by her strength as she flipped them over and slid down his body to his cock which was pressed against his stomach, the leaking tip painting his lower belly in his need for her. There was nothing else said as she slid her mouth over the head and her hand cupped his sack, her calloused fingers moving over the hypersensitive skin. He tucked an arm beneath his head as he watched her take his cock deeper into her mouth. He slid his fingers through her hair but didn't push. He simply watched how her determination worked to his advantage. She spread the laces open more and her other hand stroked over the base of him as her mouth sucked upward on the tip. He was going to stop her soon, but the sight of her gloriously naked above him, his cock in her mouth and he knew there would never grow a time where he would tire of it. She tugged on his leathers and he sat up to help him remove his clothes. He leaned forward and kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue. Mixed with the taste of her and he knew he would shatter the world to keep her.

Arya straddled his waist then slid his cock through her folds, dropping her own head back when the tip moved against her engorged clit. She'd obviously grown tired of the teasing and impaled herself on him in a long slide. He dropped his head back to take a breath. She put her hands on his slightly bent legs then moved her hips in a rolling motion. They were shallow thrusts done at an agonizingly slow roll. He didn't know if he would survive this torture. Her inner walls tightened against every stroke out. It was a brilliant torture. He captured her hips in his hands and received a squeak of surprise when he thrust into her hard, letting her know that she was controlling the pace because he wanted her to. That only seemed to fire her up more.

She shifted forward and placed her hands beside his heads and stopped moving. "Think that was clever? I'm in control."

He shook his head. "No. This is a game of equals," he said as he pulled her down to kiss him. She grabbed his hands and went to shove them to the bed, but he overpowered her. As she moved her left, he blocked her with his right. She sat up and he was fully seated inside her again, even as their hands struggled. He sat up and pinned her wrists behind her back. He bit along the underside of her breast. She thrust her hips against his, rocking back and forth over him. “Equals,” he whispered against her skin. She rested her cheek against the side of his head and then nodded. He released her hands again and she held him to her as his hands grasped her hips.

*~*

In the silence of the keep, Gendry faced Arya, his hands tucked beneath his pillow and his eyes closed. He felt her fingers move along his jaw and opened his eyes to find her staring at him. “I know you’re scared of being a Lord,” she whispered. “I think it’s only fair to tell you that I’m scared of being a Lady.”

He smiled. “Good. It gives me hope.”

She shook her head. “It’s not funny. I never thought there would be an option for me to be a Lady under my terms. I can’t be Sansa. I don’t really want to. I will never be as good at it as she is. But then, I think that is probably alright because you wouldn’t want me to be.”

He tugged her closer to him and she went willingly into his arms. “No, I wouldn’t. I like you as you are. The cold-blooded killer. The Faceless Man. Arry,” he said with a slight smile. “You’re perfect, Arya. Stop comparing yourself to your sister. You are everything you need to be and I feel more assured knowing you’re at my side. No one believed in me until you.”

She tucked her head beneath his and pulled the furs higher. “So, you’re saying you want to be my family?”

He smiled and kissed her lips. “You are my family.”

Arya closed her eyes and was silent for a moment, then her voice struck out into the room, “I’m not calling you ‘my Lord’.”

He chuckled. “I’m still going to call you ‘m’lady’.”

“As long as it’s not in front of other people and reserved for in here only.”

“You mean when you push me around like earlier.”

“Tried to push you around, you mean,” she grumped.

He closed his eyes. “Yes. That.”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll gut you. But I like it when you overpower me, sometimes.”

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. “Do you?”

She nodded. “It makes me wet,” she whispered into the room. “Again, something that stays in here.”

“Or the forge.”

She grinned. “I do like the naughtiness of doing it in the forge…”

“And what else does m’lady like?”

Arya smirked. “I like it when you’re dirty, covered in soot and ash. I like it when you tease me with your fingers, but more when you do it with your mouth…” She reached between them and stroked his stirring cock. “I like tasting you. Do you like it?”

He gasped as her thumb swirled around the head. “Yes. I especially like it when I wake up to your mouth on my cock.”

She placed kisses along his throat. “What else do you like?”

“I like watching you ride me,” he said as he pushed her to her back. He ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh and heard her gasp. “I like that sound. I like when you moan my name. I love watching you fight with your sword and defeat everyone in the yard,” he said as he slipped two fingers inside her. He kissed her then nibbled along her bottom lip. “I like watching you get dressed but I love helping you get undressed…” his thumb swirled around her clit. She gasped and closed her eyes before she rolled to her side, threw her thigh over his, pushed his hand away, and sheathed him inside her. “I love that you take what you want,” he gasped as he wrapped his arms around her.

Their thrusts were unhurried as she kissed and nipped at the skin of his throat. “I love how you touch me,” Arya offered in a breathy whisper. “You don’t treat me like I’m made of glass to break beneath you. You touch me like you can’t get enough. You bruise me on accident, but I wear them like armor. I love that when we’re done, I still feel you and it only makes me want you more.” She leaned her head back as he moved his fingers along her hip and to her clit. She closed her eyes and he watched her as she came undone, her climax causing him to grow closer to his own. She rode the high of it until he moved his hand to grasp her hip and thrust into her harder and faster. “I love watching you when you get off,” she said into his ear. “I love feeling it inside me, knowing that one day it could make something better than either of us. I love tasting it,” she said all of this in a breathy tone. She pulled back and pressed her forehead against his. And with the slight pull of her inner walls against him, he came. He didn’t know where she ended and he began.

“I love you,” she whispered against his ear. “You and me, Gendry. That’s all we need.”

Arya VIII

Chapter Summary

Arya has to wear a dress, sisterly confessions, and a conversation with Jon about how she earned her skills with the sword.

ARYA

Arya frowned as she looked at her reflection in Sansa’s mirror. She hadn’t intended for Sansa to put a dress on her and she certainly hadn’t intended to have a handmaiden working at the hem. But Sansa and Missandei both examined the dress, a light grey, form-fitting at the top and the waist flaring out into a long skirt.

“This is not practical for fighting,” Arya grumped.

Missandei shook her head. “It’s for a wedding. I hope there won’t be any fighting.”

Arya turned to face her. “This family doesn’t have the greatest fortunes when it comes to weddings. My brother and mother were killed at one. Sansa was married off to two men she didn’t want to marry. It’s best if we’re all armed to the teeth and prepared for something to happen.”

Sansa heaved a sigh and helped drape the cape over her right shoulder, which would conceal her weapon, but leaving her left arm free to move. “Which is why I’ve thought of this contingency. I don’t trust it any more than you do. The Dothraki will be guarding the keep, the dragons close by, and everyone in attendance will have their weapons. If we are caught, we’ll be able to fight through it.”

She looked down at the dress and then moved to her sword belt and pulled it from its scabbard, then tested the movement of the dress. “The seam is too tight beneath my arm. I can’t get my arm over my head without nearly ripping the dress.”

Sansa nodded to the handmaiden and she went about marking the dress to let the seam out a bit. There was something wrong with Sansa. She’d tried to hide the fact that she wasn’t sleeping with her powders. There was also a sadness about her face and she frowned. She also hadn’t gloated that she had managed to get Arya into a dress with little to no fighting about it.

“It’s not bad. For a dress,” Arya said as she smiled at Sansa, but her sister didn’t return it and now Arya was worried. “Would you please leave me with my sister?”

Missandei nodded and told Sansa she would see her later about the special stitching of the Stark wolf. Sansa moved to sit at the edge of the bed and Arya moved behind her changing screen and put her clothes on once more. She came from around the screen, her jerkin hanging open along the back and she needed Sansa to do it for her.

Sansa began to tie the laces and Arya smile. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” she said, though Arya was even more convinced that she was lying.

“So, you want to play the game of faces...”

“Arya,” she warned.

“You won’t be honest with me. What should I do? I know you’re upset, but I don’t know why or how I can help unless you tell me.”

“You can’t help,” her tone was defeated which only caused more worry from Arya.

“But you are upset,” she said.

She could see that Sansa was trying to come up with a reason, a purpose for being upset, not willing to give her the full truth. When she started speaking, her eyes turned away and her face flushed, Arya knew it was a half-truth. “You’re leaving. Jon’s leaving. Daenerys. Tyrion, Missandei...”

Arya then smiled. “Jaime” She had only meant it to tease as she knew that her sister had a girl’s infatuation with the man. But upon seeing how her face flushed more and she didn’t chastise Arya for her jest, she wondered if it had more to do with Jaime than she thought. If he had hurt her sister, he’d pay with his life.

Sansa’s hands stilled and she sat on the bed once more. “He asked me what I thought he should do.”

She didn’t know why Sansa looked so conflicted about that question. It had a simple enough answer to her. “And you told him to go kill his evil sister, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I can’t make the choice for him even though I want to. I don’t want him to resent me for the choice he makes.”

Arya turned to see the dejected look on Sansa’s face. “That can’t be what has you so upset.”

Sansa put her head in her hands, then looked up at Arya with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Arya. I should hate him. Everything in me is screaming for me to hate him!” she said as she stood and began pacing the room. Arya was uneasy at seeing Sansa so clearly conflicted and distraught. “Why can’t I stop how I feel?”

Arya frowned and she wondered about the relationship between her sister and Jaime. Personally, she didn’t care enough about him to want him dead or alive, but clearly, Sansa did. How had she gotten so close? “Have you been spending time with him?”

“Moments...here and there.”

“Alone?” Sansa wrung her hands and Arya sighed then sat on the bed. “You’re attracted to him. We know that. Do you have actual feelings for him?”

She sobbed out, “Yes.”

Arya stood, stepped forward and hugged Sansa because she looked like she needed one. “How did this happen?”

Sansa released her and shook her head. “I don’t know. I spent time with him when he was injured and...sword fighting. Three days ago I was in the Godswood after he found out about Cersei’s lie. He looked so broken and alone and I...I should have left him alone. I should never have said anything to him,” she panted. “I wanted him, Arya. I wanted to kiss him and I wanted him to kiss me, but I can’t be a replacement. I can’t be the person to fill in the hole of Cersei.”

Arya frowned. “Did he say that you would be?”

“No one would ever say that,” Sansa turned away from her sister and fidgeted with the clips on her vanity table. “He was distraught about her. What was I supposed to think?”

Arya sat on the edge of the bed and watched her. “I probably would have thought the same thing. Do you trust him?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you think he would lie to you?”

“No. We don’t lie to each other.”

“Have you talked to him again?”

“No. He said he would keep his distance from me if that’s what I wanted. And he has.”

“But it’s not what you want,” Arya said, frustrated with her sister. “What’s really happening here? I’m not, by any means, encouraging your relationship with Jaime Lannister, of all people. But I can see how sad you are. You clearly don’t want to feel like you do, but...you can’t help who you love.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I don’t think it’s love.”

“How do you know? Have you ever been in love?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t think it’s love. I think...it could be if I let myself fall.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Fear. I don’t want to be the thing he uses to get over Cersei only to find out later that he doesn’t want me. I was just...convenient. I don’t want to be used. I will never be used again.”

A knock sounded on the door and Sansa turned to her mirror to fix her face. “Who is it?”

“Daenerys. Missandei told me you finished Arya’s dress, I was hoping to see it,” she said through the door. Arya opened the door for their soon-to-be sister.

“Oh, you’ve already changed,” she said, a slight frown on her face. She found the dress lying across Sansa’s bed, though and looked it over. “It is very lovely, Sansa. Do you like it?” she asked as she looked to Arya.

“It’s a dress. I’ve been told I have to wear one.”

Daenerys frowned. “I didn’t say you did.”

“No, Sansa did,” she explained.

Daenerys looked at Sansa and then frowned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “She’s not really.” Sansa gave Arya a menacing look, but they both knew there was no threat behind it. Sansa had no chance of ever taking Arya in a fight.

Daenerys frowned. “Has someone hurt you? I’ll feed them to Drogon,” she answered and it actually caused Arya to smile and even a slight upturn of Sansa’s lips. “Jon will help me,” she reassured.

Arya frowned. “Daenerys might be able to help you better than I could. I haven’t endured all you have. I don’t...have the same sort of reservations you might have.”

Sansa shook her head. “I’m sure she has better things to do than to listen to my problems.”

Daenerys moved to sit at the chair of Sansa’s vanity table. “Nonsense. We’re going to be sisters. And a queen’s duty is to listen to the problems of her people. You’re more than just ‘people’, though. What’s troubling you?”

At Sansa’s silence, Arya huffed out a frustrated breath. “Tell her.”

Sansa stared at her hands. “I’m conflicted about a man.”

Daenerys sighed, a wistful smile on her face. “What is the conflict, my lady?”

“I should hate him. But I find that I don’t anymore.”

“Your opinion and feelings changed. Obviously for a reason.”

She nodded. “He and his family have caused a great deal of pain to ours.”

Arya rolled her eyes at Sansa’s insistence on speaking of him without using his name. But judging by the look on Daenerys’s face, she knew of whom Sansa spoke.

“And does Ser Jaime return these affections?”

Arya smiled triumphantly as her sister’s secret was fully revealed. Sansa looked at Daenerys and took a deep breath. “I believe so. But...I asked him to stay away from me.”

“And has he?”

Sansa nodded. “Yes.”

Daenerys spoke softly. “I understand the reservations you might have. Not just of allowing someone to have your heart but to believe that someone could be...gentle with you after what you endured. And whether or not you believe that is actually a reason, it’s always in the back of your mind, gnawing at you. Constantly wondering if he would be like the only other man you’d known and hurt you. You and I have suffered at the hands of men. It’s hard to believe that there are any men in this world that would be worthy of what we have. I’m not saying Jaime Lannister is worthy of you. But if you feel he is, don’t hesitate. We have so little time here, and it can all end quickly...”

“I don’t want to be a replacement for Cersei.”

Daenerys sighed. “Then don’t be. Be more. Demand more.” She looked to Arya. “What do you think?”

Arya’s eyes widened. “About her and Jaime? She could do better.”

Daenerys nodded. “I tend to agree. However, I will give him the respect he’s earned. He rode North, against the wishes of Cersei, to come help us. He proved on the field that he would fight for us all. And obviously, he’s had some sort of significant impact on you. He may have done horrible things. But Brienne vouches for his honor, and I can imagine no higher praise from someone. He’s proven it since he’s been here. He and I don’t see eye-to-eye on things because, while I do understand why he killed my father, my life was demolished when he did.” She heaved a sigh. “Tyrion loves him, and as he has repeatedly told me time and time again, he is an excellent judge of character. But none of this matters if you’re unsure.”

Arya rolled her eyes, but Daenerys smiled at Sansa who returned it. “Not unsure. Afraid. I’m afraid.”

Daenerys nodded. “I know that feeling. I think even your sister knows that feeling.” She sighed. “Falling in love with someone is terrifying. You’re trusting them to be careful with you, to show you the same reverence you would give to them. Not everyone is worthy of it. Sometimes, it happens that you’re in the middle before you ever realized there was a beginning.”

“And the end?”

Daenerys shared a look with Arya. Their stories, their loves, had finite solutions. There would be marriages, there would be children. What Sansa’s end with Jaime would be was unknown. “I can’t say, Sansa. And I know the uncertainty, after everything, is as frustrating as realizing you have feelings in the first place. It’s hard to want something only to realize you can’t actually have it. I thought I had to endure that with Jon. I thought he’d died and I was going to mourn a man I had only just realized I loved. It’s excruciating. A broken heart won’t kill you, but you wish it would.”

“I suppose asking you what I should do would be advice you wouldn’t want to give.”

Arya stepped forward now. “You have to live with the choice, Sansa. You don’t want him to resent you for telling him what to do. You can’t ask us to do the same.”

Daenerys turned to Arya and smiled. “I suppose it would be too much to ask to see you in your dress?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “I already have to wear it for your ceremony. Do I really have to put it back on?”

Sansa collected herself and lifted the dress from the bed. “Yes,” she said as she pushed Arya behind the changing screen.

*~*

Jon was leaning against the wall of the courtyard as he watched Sansa squared off against Podrick, both with blunted blades. Brienne was standing close, giving instruction to both, and Pod managed to disarm her. Arya shook her head. Her sister was trying too much. She looked around and watched as Gendry was speaking with a few of the blacksmiths about something, and then he laughed. There were a few soldiers milling about, Lord Glover was speaking with Lady Mormont who seemed to be putting him firmly in his place. And then, on top of the rampart, she saw him, alone as he leaned against the edge watching Sansa. He was keeping his distance as he told Sansa he would. She’d have to suss out exactly what it was Jaime wanted with her sister soon.

But for now, she had Jon alone, and she would take the opportunity to spend time with her brother. “How long until you’re showing everyone in the yard your skill with the sword?”

Jon smirked as she leaned against the wall with him and he shook his head. “It still hurts to breathe at times. The Maester assures me that it shouldn’t be much longer before I am back to my old self, but I feel like that can’t get here soon enough. Believe me, as soon as I can, I will.”

“Miss fighting?”

He shook his head. “There’s something familiar about swinging a sword. I know how to do that. It’s all the other stuff I’m lacking in.”

“What other stuff?”

“Ruling. Daenerys is confident. I usually feel less so. I don’t want to make a decision that could cost people their lives when they didn’t have to die.”

“You’re much better at ruling than you think. You care about what happens to your people, Jon. I don’t know many other rulers who would give it a second thought. Daenerys seems to care. So, it sounds to me that you and Daenerys are good matches for one another.”

He nodded and smiled. “We are. You and Gendry as well.”

She looked at him again, showing the smiths his hammer, around the place where the antlers of the stag drifted towards the pommel. “I loved him as a girl and now I’m more in love with him as a woman.”

“And you’re happy with his decision to go to Storm’s End?”

She nodded. “We made it together. He’s not going anywhere I don’t follow and he feels the same. We’re equals.”

Sansa disarmed Podrick this time, swept her leg and as he fell to the ground she held her blade to his throat. Brienne spoke. “I don’t think I showed you that move, yet.”

“Courtesy of Arya,” she said and glanced at her sister.

Brienne gave Arya a smile. Sansa helped Podrick stand and handed him his sword. Her eyes drifted back to Jaime who turned his head away from watching them. Is he jealous of Pod?

“Are you ever going to tell me how you acquired your skill with the sword? I know about the Faceless Men...but how long did you train?”

She sighed. “I don’t actually know. I was blind for a while...”

“Blind?” Jon stiffened at the statement and she nodded. “But you have your sight back?”

“I took a life that they told me wasn’t mine to take. I was meant to be ‘no one’. The life was for me, Arya, to take.”

Jon frowned. “Who?”

“Meryn Trant.”

Jon was silent for a moment and then looked at her with an expression of understanding. “One of Joffrey’s Kingsguard?”

She nodded. “He took pleasure in hurting little girls. He never saw me coming. I gouged out his eyes...stabbed him, made sure he knew my name before I slit his throat. My punishment was that I could no longer see. Only when I earned it back did it return.”

“Was he your first kill?”

She shook her head. “My first was an accident. In King’s Landing. I...I didn’t mean to kill him. It was a stable boy...”

“King’s Landing. You were still a girl.”

She nodded. “As I said, it was an accident.”

“And the second one?”

“Not an accident,” she said as she looked over at him. “We haven’t spoken about this, but I feel I should tell you as it is one of the things that helped me get through what I did. I made a list of names. People I wanted to kill. Joffrey was always first. Cersei, Meryn Trant, The Mountain, Illyn Payne, Polliver, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion, the red witch, Walder Frey, and at one time, the Hound.”

Jon frowned. “Why Beric and Thoros?”

“They sold Gendry to the Red Witch. They knew she was going to kill him and they sold him anyway,” she said as she looked down at the snow. “Gendry had been with me since we left King’s Landing. He’d worked out that I was a girl and kept my secret. So, when I left Harrenhal, I took him and Hot Pie with me. And then we met the Brotherhood,” she shook her head. “It all seemed to go downhill from there.”

“And the Hound? He’s still living.”

She could see him talking to Tormund as the ginger-haired man watched Brienne intently. “I wanted him dead for a while. I promised to put my sword through his eye. But when he was beaten by Brienne and I had the chance to kill him...I didn’t. I wasn’t able to face that I didn’t want him to die until I was in the House of Black and White. I had removed him from my list without realizing it.”

He then sighed. “Your red witch. Melisandre?”

Arya looked over at him and nodded. “Yes. She...hurt him. I’ll take her life if I see her again.”

“She brought me back to life,” he said. “But when she told me that she had killed Princess Shireen, still a girl...Davos thought of her as a daughter. Loved her as one. But...she had burned her at the stake to satisfy her god. I left her alive because she brought me back. But I couldn’t allow her to stay in the North. She’s the one who told Daenerys I was the King in the North and to summon me.”

Gendry was making his way over to them, his hammer strapped to his back. “I’m glad she brought you back. But I will kill her for what she did to Gendry,” she said softly.

“Does he want that?”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I took Beric off my list for him. I won’t do it again.” Gendry smirked as Podrick was once more knocked to his back. He wrapped an arm around Arya’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You always seem so happy to see him beaten down.”

Gendry smirked. “Not happy. Amused.”

“You refuse to fight me, so who’s to say you wouldn’t end up in the same position?” Arya teased.

“I will never fight you. I don’t think my pride could handle it,” he mused. Arya rolled her eyes, slipping her arm inside his cloak and beneath the heavy leather vest, her fingers moving against his skin. She could feel the heat of his stare even as he spoke to Jon. “Married in two days.”

Jon nodded. “What about you two?” he asked and Arya dug her nails into Gendry’s back and he winced. “You’re a Lord, you’re a Lady. I’d never pressure you to get married, but I do find myself asking why.”

Arya sighed. “Because it’s what other people would want. It should be about more than that.”

“You don’t think you can have both?”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel like I have to be married to be with Gendry. Why should I do something simply because other people expect it of me? I’m happy. He’s happy,” she said, chancing a glance up at him to find him smiling down at her. “Why do we need more than that?”

Daenerys exited onto the rampart and she noticed Jon take instant notice. He smiled and shook his head. “You don’t.” Tyrion and Davos soon joined her as did Jaime. Tyrion and his brother left the courtyard for indoors. She soon started down the stairs, her hands folded in front of her. For some reason, Arya thought it made her look taller. “Arya, Gendry,” she said with a nod of her head. “Jon, I was going to fly on Drogon. Perhaps you should ride Rhaegal.”

He nodded and turned to Arya. “We’ll speak later,” he said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder before he walked off.

Sansa called an end to her practice and Arya snuggled more into Gendry’s side. “How are you always so warm?” She asked.

He shook his head. “I’m always freezing. Didn't you accuse me of complaining about the cold?”

She watched Brienne and Podrick follow Sansa inside and realized that she had alone time with Gendry. “Let’s go for a ride of our own,” she grinned up at him.

He chuckled. “That was almost subtle.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who has time for subtlety?”


	9. Chapter 9

Gendry IX

Chapter Summary

Gendry's reaction to Arya in a dress and airing out some concerns.

Chapter Notes

Even Arya has insecurities

GENDRY

“I hate to admit that I like you in a dress,” he whispered in her ear.

He could see her roll her eyes, but he sipped at the ale in front of him and felt his head spinning a bit. “You’ll like it more when I’m out of it,” she whispered back.

He chuckled as he put his goblet back on the table before whispering again. “As long as you let me crawl under it, first.”

Arya turned and grinned at him. She nodded her head a bit and they turned to hear Tormund shout, “Bed her well, boy!” before Jon and Daenerys left the room. The other side of the table was getting louder the drunker they got. He looked down at Arya, a grin on his face. “Do I bed you well?”

She laughed and put her hand over his goblet as he’d gone to take another drink. “Yes. I insist that you stop drinking so you can later.”

“How much later?” he questioned and nuzzled her ear.

“Impatient?”

“I’ve been hard for you for hours now,” he breathed against her ear.

Sam and Gilly stood and left, baby Sam asleep in her arms. Sansa was left alone with Jaime and Bran, but even Bran called to be taken to his room. Theon and Yara were the next to leave. Gendry took notice that Sansa and Jaime didn’t seem to mind being alone. That was surprising considering she had routinely lamented to anyone who would listen how she hated the Lannisters and wanted him dead. Varys moved to the other end of the table and sat beside Brienne. Lady Mormont, her advisor, and Lord Glover also left.

“I think we should retire m’lady .”

Her grey eyes met his and she stood, one last gulp of her wine, and she took his hand. He stood and looped her arm through his, Arya giving a nod to Sansa who was still speaking to Jaime.

They made it halfway up the stairs before Gendry pushed her against the wall and kissed her. He was slightly drunk and the feel of the dress beneath his fingers as he mapped out the curves of her body had him groaning against her lips. She pushed him back to the other wall, his head thudding off the stone. “Fuck,” he grunted but quickly forgot the pain as her mouth found his again, her tongue sliding between his lips dueling with his. She pushed away from him again and turned to run up the stairs and Gendry gave chase, dashing past the wildlings that were meant to guard the upper chambers.

He caught her at the door to their room, his arms wrapping around her from behind as she kicked open the door. He lifted her from the ground and carried her inside and kicked the door shut behind him. He put her on her feet and turned her in his arms, his lips finding hers. He backed her to the nearest surface which happened to be the table they often broke their fast. He started lifting her skirts while her fingers worked to unlace his jerkin. When it was hanging open he threw it to the floor, tugged his tunic over his head, and then sank to his knees in front of her, pulling her to the edge of the table. He spread her legs as he leaned forward and lapped at her cunt. Her hands moving through his hair caused him to pull away, not allowing her to dictate where his mouth went and when. He caught both of her hands and entwined his fingers with hers, loving the taste of her on his tongue.

She was moaning his name as she fell back on the table. When she climaxed against his tongue, he took a moment to take in the sight. He couldn’t see her face over her bunched skirt but what he could see caused his already hard cock to twitch. Her legs were splayed wide, one over his shoulder. She still had her boots on her feet and the layers of her skirts were laying around her waist. Her cunt was pink and wet and he couldn’t help but have another taste.

“Gendry,” she groaned and he felt the muscle of her thigh tighten against his face. “I want you inside me.”

He stood and she helped him with his laces. “Much as I like this dress, I want it off,” he muttered even as he cupped her breasts through the fabric. She removed her hands from him and directed them to the seam along her spine.

“Then help me get out of it,” she muttered against his ear. He started unlacing it, but as she pushed his leathers over his hips he grew impatient and ripped it apart, Arya moaning as he bared her breast to his eager mouth. She pulled her arms from the sleeves, her legs wrapped around his waist and held him tight to her. He slid inside her in one hard thrust.

He was already close, the taste of her skin salty against his tongue causing his already drunk brain to spin. He would never grow tired of it. Whatever usual finesse he had was gone due to the amount he’d had to drink, but Arya didn’t complain. He was rewarded by her walls clamping around him as another climax rushed through her which sent him into his own. He rested his head against her breast, panting her name. He didn’t know how he was going to manage them to the bed and so he didn’t try. He grabbed one of the chairs for the table and collected her in his arms and sat in the chair. Her legs dangled in the air as he held her close. “There’s a lot to this dress,” he muttered and tried to help her pull it over her head, but she only ended up more tangled in it. His frustration mounted before he continued ripping it along the back and threw it to the floor.

She stared at him, a smile on her face. “I might have to wear dresses more often if you’ll simply rip them off me.”

He shrugged. “It was in my way,” he said as he smoothed his hands over her thighs.

“I’m not complaining,” she said against his lips. “I like it, in fact. Sansa, however, might kill you.”

“I’m used to Stark women screaming at me.” He buried his face in her neck and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. “Let’s stay like this forever.”

She rested her head atop his. “It’s a nice dream.”

“Most of my dreams involve you,” he muttered.

“Is that why you wake up hard?” She questioned.

He shook his head. “Not always. Usually, you’ve spent the better part of the night rubbing against me. That’s why I wake up hard.”

She sighed. “I could stay like this. Maybe without my boots, though.”

“I’d take them off but I’m not fucking moving.”

She kissed the top of his head. “Good. I don’t want you to.”

They were silent and he listened to her heartbeat, lulling him into a doze. She stirred and started to move off him, but he held her close, squeezing her against him. “Don’t move,” he muttered.

“I have to,” she said as she moved off him and into the privy. He took that opportunity to remove his boots and leathers. He made his way to the bed as the door opened and she reentered. She crawled onto the bed beside him, tugged off her boots, and rested her back to his chest. She gathered his arms

around her and he hugged her close. “I love you, Gendry.”

“Love you too, m’lady .”

*~*

He felt a finger poke him in the ribs and he lifted his head to look around, noticing that the sun wasn’t yet up. Arya sat beside him on the bed, one of her legs pulled to her chest, her head resting on her knee. He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Why are you awake?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“So you woke me up?”

“I want to talk.”

He shifted in the bed and sat up to look at her. Her eyes, however, were focused on the furs in front of them. “I’m going to warn you...I may still be a little drunk.”

She smiled but it left her face quickly. “I’m concerned about something.”

He shook his head a bit, trying to clear it of the cobwebs so he could focus on her. “What?”

“You’re rather overwhelming reaction to me in a dress.”

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand. You seemed to like it earlier.”

She sighed. “I know.” He could see the confusion and concern on her face. He wasn’t used to seeing her so uncertain. “I’m probably never going to be the type of lady that wears pretty dresses or has perfect manners...”

“Still don’t understand.”

She groaned in frustration. “Do you like me better in dresses?”

He rubbed the back of his head and winced at the sore spot from where his head had slammed against the wall. “Arya, I like you better out of clothes.”

“Be serious.”

“I’m being completely serious. I don’t care what you wear. I never have.”

“But...”

“But what?”

“I’ve just been thinking that maybe you would want one of those perfumed ladies who wear dresses and not me, someone who wears leathers and wields a sword.”

He shook his head and then leaned in to kiss her on the shoulder. “I want you. In a dress. In a tunic. Preferably naked at all times,” he said with a smile and she rolled her eyes. “It’s always been you, Arya. Not what you wear or what you do. It’s you I love. The rest is just stuff I have to get around to have you.” He frowned and pulled her into his arms. “What’s really bothering you?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and tugged his arms around her fully. She had her head lowered and he hated to see her so uncertain. “I’m afraid our entire relationship is going to change. We’ll go South and we’ll both be stuck.”

“Is that how you feel? Stuck with me?” he tried to hide the hurt he felt, but couldn’t disguise it.

“No! I want to be with you. That’s just it, Gendry.” She turned to face him. “I thought it would be us living here for the rest of our lives and whether or not we decided to get married and have children would be our choice. But now, with us going to Storm’s End...I’m afraid that expectation will force the both of us into a situation that years from now we’ll regret.”

He frowned. “I thought we were both in agreement that we were going to do this together. What’s changed?”

She lowered her head. “Nothing. I’m just...afraid of the idea of everything changing.”

He brushed her hair back from her face. “Arya, I don’t care about the title.” he shook his head. “I mean...part of me does. I want to be a person who can make other people’s lives better so they don’t suffer like I did growing up. But I never contemplated doing that without you. When I see the future it’s always with you. You’re supposed to be the one who’s sure of everything. It worries me that I’m having to reassure you.”

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “The future scares me. I have complete certainty that we’ll win in King’s Landing and Storm’s End. But...after that, I’m nervous.”

He nodded. “So am I. But never about us. Since we found one another again I’ve never thought about a future without you in it.” He then smiled. “I have a solution.” She nodded for him to continue. “You continue to be certain about our march south and our eventual success. I’ll continue to be certain about us. And when either of us feels ourselves wavering, we turn to each other.”

She shook her head and chuckled. “Are you sure you’re still drunk?”

He heaved a sigh. “I think I sobered up rather quickly when I thought you felt stuck with me and it was a punishment.”

Her kiss soothed his worries a bit. She climbed on top of him, her arms moved around his neck to hold him to her. She moaned against his lips and he tugged her closer. “I’m sorry,” she said against his ear. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not where I want to be.”

He squeezed her tighter. “Good. Because I don’t want any of this without you,” he said against her throat.

ARYA IX

Arya heaved a sigh as Sansa left the room and then she closed the door. She turned to see Gendry dressing and the disheartened look on his face. “What are you doing?” she asked softly as she sat on the edge of the bed and watched him furiously pull his tunic over his head.

“I’m going to apologize to your sister,” he said as he moved to don his boots and she finally put a hand over his. He stared at the floor for a moment and then turned to her. “You don’t think I should go after her?”

“No. I’ll handle Sansa,” she offered, though she had no idea what she could say besides sorry . The truth was, she wasn’t really sorry. Even though she had Gendry’s enthusiastic reassurance to try and assuage her that she was enough for him, she still worried that everything was going to change.

He frowned as he looked at her and then nudged her with his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I hate Sansa was angry.”

“At least she directed it where it belonged.”

She nodded. “That is positive, I suppose,” she said with a smile at him.

“What’s wrong with you? And don’t try to pass it off as Sansa, again.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and then wrapped her arms around his. “I’ll miss this.”

“What?”

“All of my family is in the same place. We struggled for so long to get back to each other that I’m now reluctant to let it go.”

He wrapped his arm around her, causing her to release him as he pushed her back on the bed. “You’ll always have me,” he said with a grin.

She brushed her fingers over the lines at his eyes when he smiled. “Are you sure you’re not going to take after your father and fuck everything that has breasts?”

He shook his head. “No. I want you. Only you. If that’s what you’re worried about, then I would tell you that it’s for nothing. First, you’d kill me,” he said and placed a kiss on her nose. “Second, your brother would kill me. And third, what woman could compare to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Too much.”

“Not enough. You still doubt me?” he frowned.

“Not you. Not really,” she said and cupped his face with her hand. “I have no doubt that you mean everything you say. But people change…”

He sat up and moved off the bed. “Yes, Arya, people change,” he turned to face her. “I’ve changed. You’ve changed. Yet, here we are. I’m madly in love with you. I thought you were equally in love with me…”

“I am.”

“Then where is this coming from? I’ve never lied to you. Why would you think I would start with this?” She didn’t know how to explain what she was feeling and she watched him pull his jerkin on and began to lace it. “Arya, I don’t know how to assure you that what I feel for you is genuine and isn’t going anywhere…”

“I don’t think you’ll stop loving me…”

“Then what?”

“I think …it will change.”

“Of course it will change. It already has,” he explained and moved to stand in front of her once more. He rested his hands on her knees. “Our relationship has changed since I got here. You thought I was dead. I knew you were alive. We managed to get over the fact that you could have been furious at me for trying to leave you all those years ago. We also managed to figure out that wasting time as if we didn’t mean more to one another than friends was a futile effort. We’ve kissed, we’ve fucked, we’ve fought together and each other. You’re what I want. You’ve been what I wanted for so long I hardly remember wanting anything else,” he looked down at his hands. “Our relationship will change. But I don’t remember that being a bad thing.”

She tilted her head as she looked at him. “I’ve hurt you, I know.”

“It does hurt me that you doubt me,” he said. “Doubt whether or not I can successfully be a Lord. Doubt whether or not you can successfully be a Lady. Doubt whether or not Jaime Lannister can kill his sister. But don’t doubt that I love you. Just you. In a dress. In leathers. Naked as the day you were born. With a sword in your hand or without. I love you,” he hissed then moved away from her and took up his hammer. “I’ll be back later,” he said as he opened the door.

“Where are you going?”

He turned to look at her. “To find something to swing my fucking hammer at,” he said before he left the room.

Arya watched the door close behind him and groaned in frustration as she put her head in her hands. She was frustrated with herself. She still felt the unmistakable vulnerability course through her. She hated it. She dressed quickly and moved down the hall to Sansa’s room.

She knocked on the door and could hear quick shuffling and Sansa’s voice hiss the word hide . “Just a moment.” Arya smiled to herself and waited for Sansa to open the door. When it opened she frowned. “Oh. What?”

“I just came to talk to you and apologize.”

“You’ve apologized already,” she made to close the door in her face, but Arya held out her hand and blocked her from closing the door. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Arya.”

“Too bad. I need to talk to you,” she said as she pushed past Sansa into her room and looked around. She was trying to determine where Sansa would hide someone and then turned to face her and realized she hadn’t moved away from the door which she hadn’t opened or closed. Sansa you predictable fool . “Would you close the door? This is a conversation I would rather not share with the entire keep.” Sansa, however, blushed but didn’t move to close it. Arya smirked. “Would it help if I told you that I know he’s in here and he’s behind the door?”

Sansa’s eyes met hers and Jaime stepped around the door. “I’ll see you later,” he said and dropped a kiss on the back of her hand before he left.

Arya smiled. “You can close the door, now.”

Sansa closed the door and moved over to the chair beside her table. “We weren’t doing anything. Talking.” Arya nodded and Sansa caved under her stare. “And kissing.”

“Good.”

“Good? You’re not going to chastise me?”

Arya shook her head. “No. You’re a grown woman. You’re fully capable of making decisions for yourself. I wish it was someone other than Jaime Lannister, but I know you care for him. I know how…devastated you were when you thought he was seeking to replace Cersei with you. That’s changed?” Sansa nodded and Arya continued. “Then I trust your judgment.”

After a moment, Sansa sighed. “Why are you here?”

“I need to talk to someone, and it can’t be Gendry. He’s already cross with me.”

“Talk about what?”

She glanced at the dress laying across Sansa’s bed. “You’re upset about the dress. I understand; I know you worked very hard on it. I’m sorry it upset you. But…Gendry’s reaction to it unsettled me.”

“How so?”

She sat at the foot of the bed and looked at her hands. “He liked it. A lot. Too much for my liking to be honest. At the time I was caught up in how I felt and how much I wanted him. But…the more I thought about it the more it troubled me.”

“Why?”

“I told you, I had to become something else besides a Lady. I was never going to be as good at it as you. But…putting that dress on made me feel like one. And then…Gendry reacting to it so strongly…he liked it. He can say he likes me in whatever I wear or don’t wear…but he did like it. I’m now worried that when we get to Storm’s End he’s either going to be disappointed that I’m not a proper lady or…he’s going to seek one out, like his father.”

Sansa frowned. “Having been around Gendry and Robert, he’s nothing like his father. It’s clear to see that he’s absolutely in love with you.”

“But what if that changes.”

“All relationships change, Arya. They have to. We as people change. Would you say you’re the same person who left Winterfell all those years ago? Or King’s Landing? Or Braavos? You’ve adapted to become what you are. Relationships can do that, too.”

“But I don’t want it to change. I like what we have.”

“Liking what you have now doesn’t mean that you won’t like what you have in the future.”

Arya frowned and sighed. “What if he changes and he doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Then you kill him and come back to Winterfell,” Sansa said with a slight laugh and Arya chuckled. “Arya, I think you’re worried about nothing. He’s hardly left your side since you were reunited. Why are you so unsure?”

Arya frowned. “Because every time I think I’ve found a place where I could be happy and content, something comes along and ruins it. It’s only a matter of time before Gendry gets tired of me, right?”

“No. Are you afraid you’ll get tired of him?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “I’m worried that years from now he’ll look back on all of this and resent me.”

“Why?”

“My brother named him a Lord. He’s going to take over his father’s home. All things he’s never wanted. He used to lament about Lords and their keeps. And now he’s going to become one. What if he blames that on me?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You really love him,” she said and shook her head, amusement coloring her tone.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“Arya, I’ve never seen you truly worry about what someone else thinks. You’ve been sleeping with him, brazenly in fact, in front of people. Flaunting it even. You do what you want because you want to. The fact that you’re so torn about what his opinion of you could be in the future is a testament to how much he means to you.”

“I love him, Sansa. I’ve loved him for so long, now.”

“But you don’t love him the same as you did when you were a girl. It changed. And you can sit here with me, all day, and analyze this until you’ve worked yourself into a right fit. Or you could go find him and tell him what’s truly bothering you.”

“Or I could sit here and pester you about what you were doing with Jaime behind closed doors.”

Sansa blushed and looked at the table. “I told you. We were talking…and kissing.”

“Nothing more? No hand up the skirt or untying of laces to get the lion?”

“No,” she insisted. “It’s not…it’s not that easy for me.”

Arya grew quiet as she watched Sansa lace the wrist of her dress. It was clear to see that she still suffered under the weight of what was done to her. Arya wished there was something she could do or say to help assuage her fears. “I know you were tortured. You’ve never shared what you went through, but as I told you before, I have a fairly vivid imagination of what horrors exist out there. I also heard horrible tales about what Ramsay did to people around him. It’s not a deep jump to assume that he reaped that on you.” She frowned. “I’m sorry I made light of it before Jin came back to Winterfell…I was angry and looking for a reason to lash out at you. Littlefinger played me and I hate that he did.” She stood and walked to stand in front of Sansa. “But being with someone that takes time to care about you is different. Being able to let yourself go and just enjoy how it feels…is liberating.”

“The only experience I have with that, Arya, is bad. I like kissing him. A lot,” she sighed. “And I want more, but I’m afraid.”

“You’re allowed to be afraid. But do you believe Jaime will treat you as Ramsay did?”

“No.”

“I’m not, by any means, telling you to crawl into Jaime’s bed. But I do think you should know that it’s worth pushing through fear. In fact, it’s one of the best things in life, if you ask me.”

“I get nervous.”

She smiled and then took the other chair beside Sansa. “Do you know how it is that Gendry and I ever got past the pretending we didn’t care about one another in a romantic way?” Sansa shook her head and eyed her sister wearily. “I overheard a conversation in the hall between Tyrion, Podrick, The Hound, Bronn, and Tormund in which they were discussing Podrick’s abilities in bed.  
Specifically in how he gave the Lord’s Kiss.”

Sansa frowned. “How did that lead to you and Gendry?”

“I went to the forge to see him because I wanted to be around him, just unwilling to admit why. And, since he was my friend, I asked him what it was.”

“You asked?” Sansa appeared shocked.

“I did.”

After a moment of silence in which Sansa blushed to her ears, she finally asked aloud. “What did he do?”

She chuckled. “He told me, reluctantly. Mainly because he didn’t want me to get the idea to possibly ask someone like Podrick to show me. It was then I realized he was jealous and I sort of liked that he was jealous. I forced the issue and told him I wouldn’t ask anyone else. And so we kissed.”

“You did it in the forge?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Not then,” she said quickly. “I mean, we have fucked in the forge. But not at that moment. Bronn and Pod interrupted and he had to make the Scorpions. The day you came looking for me and saw the bite on my neck was the first time.” Sansa looked at her hands and Arya could see she was nervous. “What?”

“Did you like it?”

“Be specific.”

“Both the Lord’s Kiss and sex?”

“Yes,” she said with a grin. “The first is actually one of my favorite things,” she said with a grin. “And Gendry knows what he’s doing, so that helps.” Sansa looked like she had more questions and Arya rolled her eyes. “Ask me and stop looking like that.”

“How did you feel…relaxed enough to let him do that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We were kissing and undressed and he started drifting down and I didn’t stop him. I wanted it. Equal parts because it was us and I wanted him and then because I was curious. Haven’t looked back since.”

“I have…scars everywhere,” she said finally. “I’ve told Jaime this, even showed him a bit, but I don’t think he fully comprehends what I’m saying.”

“Sometimes you have to show people,” Arya said softly. “That can be as scary as anything else.”

Sansa frowned. “I want more, Arya. I simply don’t know how to go about getting it without having a fit and ruining everything. I don’t want to spend my life afraid. I want to be...brave, like you.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “You are brave, Sansa. Look at what you’ve come through to get where you are. And you say I’m brave but I’ve been here lamenting to you about my fear of my relationship changing, of losing the man I love. How brave am I really?”

Sansa frowned. “So what is the solution?”

“I’m going to talk to Gendry. As for you, if Jaime Lannister is who you want then I suggest you tell him what you’re afraid of and see if he can help?”

“Help how?”

Arya shrugged. “You like kissing. That’s a start. You don’t have to do everything. Simply move along and if you feel uncomfortable make him stop. And should he not stop, there will be a race between Brienne, Jon, and I as to who gets to kill him first.”

Sansa nodded. “Go find Gendry.”

“What are you going to do?”

She smiled. “I have some items dealing with the keep I need to discuss with Maester Wolken. And then later my lesson with Brienne.”

“Which gives you some time with Jaime.”

She smiled. “It does.”

Arya looked back at the dress and sighed. “I am sorry about the dress. Can you fix it?”

Sansa frowned. “Possibly.”

“Would you. I did like it.”

She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

*~*

Arya has searched everywhere in the keep for him. The Godswood and the forge included. She heard from a stable boy that he’d taken a horse out, but that had been hours ago. As the day wore on, she began to worry that maybe she had shown too much of her feelings, let him in too much.

“That is a rather serious expression,” Brienne said as she sat beside Arya.

“Serious thoughts,” she responded. “Where’s Pod?”

“Idiot is allowing Tormund to sober him up.”

“I like Tormund.” Brienne tried to hide her smile. “You like him too.”

“I do,” she admitted finally. “I don’t know exactly why.”

“He’s a damn fine fighter, he seems to worship the ground you walk on, and he likes your strength. You’d be a fool not to like him.”

“He’s not what I ever had in mind.”

“Funny how that happens. I never thought I would be with any man.”

“Nor I, my lady.”

“Are you? With him?”

She was quiet for a moment and then looked at Arya. “Yes. Though not everyone is aware.”

Arya smiled. “He’s good for you. Keeps you on your toes.”

Brienne nodded and frowned. “He told me he wants to make babies with me. Scared me to be honest, when he said it at first, but now...I’m not as opposed to the idea as I once was.”

“How does that fall into your vow to Sansa?”

“My vow was to both of you. Not just Sansa.” Arya smiled. “I can do both.”

Arya smiled. “A warrior and a mother?”

“Of course. Why should I give up one to be the other? He wouldn’t want me to. Tormund likes it when I fight.”

Arya smiled at Brienne, then thought about Gendry and her fight with him. “I don’t know how to be both.”

“Neither do I,” she admitted. “But I want to try. What about you? You’ll be the lady of a keep and a fearsome warrior.”

Arya frowned. “Warrior I know. Lady is harder to wrap my head around.”

“And what does Gendry say?”

“He loves me no matter what.”

Brienne sighed. “Perhaps that’s enough.”

“The future is so uncertain.”

She nodded. “It always has been. The point of it, though, is to persevere through it anyway. The recent attempt on your life should prove that it could end at any moment.” She sighed. “And just think about this, you were at least given some skills and taught what a Lady should be. Gendry is a bastard boy raised in Flea Bottom and is now in the role of a Lord with no training, no one to rely on but you. If you have doubt then what must he be feeling.”

Arya sighed. “He says he’s sure of us. It’s everything else he’s uncertain about.”

“Then take comfort in that.” Arya saw Jaime and Sansa enter into the courtyard, Sansa dressed ready to practice with her sword. “Will you be joining us?”

Arya nodded and glanced at the gate, hoping to see Gendry ride through.

*~*

It was after nightfall before he arrived back at the keep. She met him at the stables as he handed over the reins to the stable boy. When he turned, she was standing in front of him, her hands behind her back. “Find something to swing your hammer at?”

He shook his head. “No. But riding helped.”

She frowned. “You needed time away.”

“I did. From all of this.”

“From me,” she asserted.

He took her by the hand and pulled her with him to the Godswood. She went willingly, hoping there was some sort of answer from him that didn’t make her want to do violence. “Despite how I feel about you, sometimes you’re a pain in my ass. That hasn’t changed in all the years we’ve known one another. You make me feel like I’m going mad. I love you, Arya. None of this, not Storm's End, not a Lordship, not this bloody war, none of it means anything without you. I don’t know how to make you see that you’re what I want, forever.”

She lowered her head. “You don’t know that. What if you grow tired of me? What if we both change so much that we grow apart?”

“Look at me and tell me that you actually think that will happen. I never stopped thinking about you. All those years we were apart my mind always drifted back to you. I know I want to be with you, only you. Perhaps the problem is that you don’t know if you want to be with me and all that comes with it now.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it was easier for you to be with me when I was a blacksmith and there was no responsibility on either of us. But now you feel like you’re being forced into a role you didn’t want and you blame me for it. I’m going to Storm's End. We will take it back and, once again, the world as you know it will change. It’s not what you wanted when we got together,” he sighed. “It’s rather selfish of me to expect you to just go along with all of this because I assumed that you would be alright with it once the shock wore off. But the truth is, I don’t know that you will ever be someone who will be content to stay in a keep or with one person...”

“Gendry...”

“Look, I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman and let you go because it’s the right thing to do...”

“No! You’re wrong.”

“How am I wrong? Do you want to be a lady? Do you want to run a keep? Do you really want to spend your time in council meetings instead of fighting with your sword?” Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. “I love you enough not to force you to be something you don’t want to be, Arya.”

She shook her head. “You are so stupid.”

“Insulting me seems about right,” he responded tersely.

“What I mean is that you are taking the choice out of my hands, aren’t you? Am I supposed to let you walk away? How does that solve anything?”

“It doesn’t hold you to an obligation you didn’t know you’d be under.”

“How dare you! It’s supposed to be you and me. That’s it. You’re not going to tell me that you’re letting me go. I refuse to let you go! That’s what all my fear is centered around, Gendry. I love what we have so much I don’t want it to ever go away and you’re trying to get rid of it out of some disgusting notion that you’re saving me from something. I didn’t think I could be a lady and a warrior. It scared me that I would have to choose.”

“I never said you had to make that choice!”

“But I still felt like I did! And your reaction to me looking like a lady scared me because I thought that you would want me to choose that!”

“I would never ask you to be something you’re not! I love you! I don’t know how plain I can make it! I love you, Arya. Warrior, assassin, lady, Stark...all of it. I love all of it! But I won’t hold you to something you don’t want. I will not let this be the reason you hate me down the road.”

Her expression softened and she moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. “If you don’t want me to resent you then don’t let me go. Don’t give up on us.” She felt him take a deep breath before his arms wrapped around her and he placed a kiss on top of her head. “I should kill you for trying to leave me.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“If you weren’t so stupid you would know that I am happy with you. So happy that I was afraid of that changing. I love you, Gendry. I do. It’s been a part of me for a long time, now, and I know that this will change. I feared that you would change and would find me lacking.”

“Never. You’re almost more than I can handle now.”

“You don’t get to let me go. And I’ll stop pushing you away.” She lifted her head to gaze at him and he pressed his lips to her nose. “We’ll simply continue to love one another and fight on occasion of us both being stupid and stubborn.”

“And the lady bit?”

“I don’t have to choose. Visenya didn’t. Nymeria didn’t. Daenerys doesn’t. Why should I?”

“You don’t. As far as I’m concerned, you never have to.”

She nodded and pulled away from him and took his hand. “Come on,” she said as she began to lead the way out of the wood.

“Where are we going?”

“I want you inside me, so we’re going to our room.” His hand stopped her and she turned to look at him and he diverted off the path, Arya trailing behind him. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“I did. But...” he said as he turned and faced her. “I want you to show me how unladylike you can be,” he said as he cupped her face and brought her lips against his. She smiled against his lips and pushed him back against a tree as his fingers moved through her hair while hers worked on his leathers, already feeling his cock straining against the laces. He moved to bite gently at her neck and she closed her eyes at the scrape of his teeth. They would figure it out, somehow, she knew. The Lady and the Smith. The Lord and the Assassin.


	10. Chapter 10

Arya X

Chapter Summary

Plans advance, family dinner, and an inventive way to teach Gendry to read...

She found Gendry fighting against Tormund, the Wildling using his axe against Gendry’s hammer. Gendry was quicker, but the force behind Tormund’s swings actually worried Arya what would happen if he made contact with any part of Gendry. She’d have to kill the wildling and explain to Jon why. She knew her brother would be unhappy with that. She cleared her voice and Gendry ducked just in time so Tormund didn’t take his head off with his axe. The ginger man turned to see her and he scowled at Gendry. “I told you she’d be angry.”

She shook her head. “I’m not angry. I just don’t want you to sever a limb or his head and then I’ll have to kill you and explain it to Jon. It’s really to save me all that headache,” she said with a sweet smile that was anything but sweet.

The Wildling stepped up to her. “I like you. But don’t think that I’d just let you kill me.”

She chuckled. “I hope you’d fight just a little.”

“Tormund, stop provoking Arya,” Brienne said with a roll of her eyes as she approached.

He scowled. “But it’s fun. None of you know how to have fun.”

“There’s more to life than fighting,” Brienne said calmly.

The scowl turned into a wicked smile. “Aye. There is, my lady .”

Arya watched as Brienne blushed but she turned her attention to her instead of addressing the Wildling. “Your brother has requested that you and Lord Gendry join him in his study.”

“Why are you carrying the message?”

“She longs to be in my presence,” Tormund said as he leaned against his axe. Brienne turned her attention to him and kicked his axe from beneath his hand and he nearly fell.

Gendry and Arya left Brienne and Tormund as they squabbled, Arya looking back to see Tormund grab his axe from the ground and square off against his lady love.

She found Jon, Daenerys, Davos, Tyrion, Missandei, Varys, and Sansa all waiting for them. Sansa looked less than thrilled, but even Jon’s normally dour expression seemed more grave.

Gendry shut the door behind them and Jon sighed. “We need you two to be ready to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Arya asked, looking at everyone in the room. “Why tomorrow?”

“We want you South before we start marching. Once you get to the Twins, we’ll be leaving and we’ll draw the attention.”

“And what sort of force are we going to Storm’s End with?”

“You’ll have Stark soldiers. Good warriors.”

She furrowed her brow. “I’m not ready to leave.”

Jon stood then and frowned. “I’m not ready to let you go,” he said softly. “But we’re going to try to keep you safe on your journey, and we need you to get to Storm’s End before we get to King’s Landing. We have to cut off her ability to run anywhere. Casterly Rock is not an option. It’s too far. But she could get to Storm’s End, and we need to establish Gendry there as the Lord and you the Lady.”

She knew that Gendry could see she was about to argue, but his gentle hand at her elbow silenced her protest. She looked up at him and frowned. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She wasn’t ready to leave her home after it had taken her so long to get there. She thought she would have more time. She felt Gendry’s thumb stroke over her arm, remembering that he was her family, too. He’d been asked to go, to take his place, and she’d sworn that she would stay at his side.

Arya nodded and looked back at Jon. “Fine. We’ll depart in the morning,” she said softly.

Jon looked down for a moment and then at the two of them. “We’ll dine together tonight. One more meal as a complete family.”

*~*

Arya had a trunk open at the end of the bed and was shoveling clothes into it with no order or tidiness. When she threw in her fur-lined boots, she felt Gendry’s hand closed over her wrist and she stood staring at the trunk. They were both silent and she stepped away from it and into his arms. She closed her eyes as she rested her cheek over his heart and felt his arms squeeze her a bit tighter.

“I’m not ready to leave either,” he said finally and she pulled away to look up at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He released her and took her hand as he pulled her to sit on the edge of the bed. “We knew we would leave, eventually. While I don’t want to, part of me is ready to get on with it. Cersei needs to be gone so Jon and Daenerys can start building their new world. We need to go to start our lives as well.

She shook her head. “We fought so hard to get here. Just what you and I survived alone...”

He nodded. “I know. But we found one another. That, to me, is the important part. You told me once that you could be my family. That means I’m yours, too.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I don’t like this. You having to reassure me of things.”

He snorted. “Neither do I. I need things back to normal where you call me stupid and throw things at me. Or shove me,” he said as he pressed his lips against her hair. “You know, the things that Arya Stark did to Gendry Waters.”

“You’re a Baratheon, now.”

He released a low sound in his throat. “Do you love me less?”

“You’re so stupid.”

She felt him smile. “That’s more like the Arya I love.”

*~*

Arya picked at her food and noticed that Gendry was doing the same thing. She was seated across from Jon and Sansa. She was amused that Sansa had insisted that Jaime join them and both he and Jon looked very uncomfortable with the situation while Sansa ignored the tension. She admired her sister’s push. She also noticed that Jon hadn’t said more than a few words to Daenerys who scowled at him through most of the dinner. She didn’t know what was happening there, but she was sure that when they finally hashed it out that they would be lucky if the stones of Winterfell still stood. She knew how stubborn her brother was, she’d also grown to see how stubborn Daenerys could be.

“What’s Storm’s End like?” Gendry finally asked.

Tyrion spoke then. “It’s a large fortress that sits on the edge of the sea. There are very few outlying buildings from the main keep because it’s constantly battered by storms.”

“So, if it’s storming, how are we to get inside?” Arya questioned.

Bran spoke then. “Ser Gilbert Farring is the castellan of Storm’s End. He knows who you are and is waiting for your march south. He still supports House Baratheon.”

“So, Cersei couldn’t run there anyway,” Arya said to the group, hoping that it would change their mind about their departure tomorrow.

“Hard to deny someone with an army coming to seek refuge who calls herself queen,” Daenerys said softly.

Tyrion nodded and sipped his wine. “Thank the Gods for that.”

Daenerys looked over at him briefly, a small smile on her face, and then glanced at Jon. Her husband did not return her gaze but stared miserably at his plate before he spoke, “Arya, I don’t want you to leave any more than you do. But you know why we’re asking.”

“You didn’t ask,” she responded.

Daenerys sighed. “You’re right. We didn’t ask. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that all of this requires cooperation from all parties. It’s the only way we’ll succeed. With that in mind, knowing how it pains you to do so, would you go south to Storm’s End? Will you help Gendry take his place as Lord?”

She looked at Gendry who leaned back in his chair, an expectant look on his face. She knew it was her decision but there wasn’t really one to be made. She was going to be wherever Gendry was, and he would do his duty and go where his king and queen asked. “I suppose since we’re packed,” she said finally and slid her hand around his bicep and then his other hand covered hers. She looked at Sansa and smiled. “Do you remember when Robert first came to Winterfell, during the feast, when I flicked food at you?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Yes. How could I forget? I thought I would die of shame.”

Arya chuckled. “Robb made me leave the hall.”

“Mother made him,” Bran chimed.

“You were such a difficult child,” Sansa said before she took a sip of her wine.

“Are we limiting her being difficult to just childhood?” Gendry asked. “Because I have some stories.”

“You shut up,” she said as she looked over at him.

Sansa, however, looked interested. “No, don’t shut up. Arya doesn’t tell us what all happened on her road North. You spent a good deal of time together. What can you tell us?”

“The first time I saw your sister, she had Needle pointed at two boys, Hot Pie and Lommy, as they had threatened to take it from her. She was posing as a boy, of course, but she stood her ground and had them back up. They didn’t try that again.

“No, because then you threatened them.”

He shrugged. “They were picking on someone smaller than them. Everyone has someone bigger than they are.”

“Gendry was the first to figure out that I was a girl.”

“How did you figure it out?” Jon questioned.

“Little things. When you’re in a group of men, they’ll just...” he faltered as he looked at Daenerys, Sansa, and then Arya, seemingly weighing what words to use, “take a piss anywhere. She always ran off into the woods. That was a clue. She has soft features, too.”

“I do not.”

He smiled at her. “You do. Compared to the lot we were traveling with...”

“Right. Compared to them, I’m Sansa.”

Sansa rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “What else did she do to prove how stubborn she was?”

“Her size didn’t matter. Arya was ready to fight anyone. When we were taken to Harrenhal, she was Tywin’s cupbearer for a while.”

Tyrion and Jaime both sat up at this. “You were?”

Gendry, however, answered before she could. “We’d all been taken by some of Tywin’s men. Rounded up and ready to be tortured. They were trying to find the Brotherhood, which we had yet to meet. Tywin walked in, kept me from being tortured, pegged her as a girl right away, and he made her his cupbearer because he thought her disguise as a boy was smart.”

Everyone in the room was staring at her, now. “He never figured out who you were,” Tyrion said, a look of amazement on his face.

She shook her head and shrugged. “I think he knew I wasn’t low born but he never knew I was Arya Stark. I hated him. But he was never cruel to me. In fact, he sometimes made sure I ate. I thought my cover was blown when Lord Baelish arrived.”

Tyrion shook his head. “Littlefinger never did miss an opportunity to play all areas of the board.”

“In the end, he got played,” Sansa responded and shared a look with Arya. It had been a moment long in the making when Baelish paid for all he had destroyed. She noticed Jaime nudge Sansa with his elbow and a look was exchanged between the two, but Arya didn’t mention it or ask.

“What about your time with the Brotherhood?” Sansa spoke, turning her attention away from Jaime.

She heaved a sigh. “Everything was going perfectly fine until the Hound was brought in and named me. Then they wouldn’t let me go. They were going to take me to Robb, whether I wanted to go or not.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?” Daenerys asked.

She glanced at Gendry. “I had reasons. I mean, I wanted to see him again. Him and Mother. But I had things I wanted to do that I didn’t think I would get to do if I was with them.”

“What things?” Jon asked.

“Kill Joffrey and Cersei.”

Tyrion smirked. “My dear girl, I would have loved to watch you accomplish those goals.”

“Instead,” she continued, “the Brotherhood sold Gendry to the Red Witch, and along with him any loyalty I could have had to them, so I ran.”

“That’s when the Hound grabbed you?” Jon asked.

She nodded. “He was such pleasant company.” There were several short laughs around the table. “He helped me get my sword back and kept me from being killed at the Twins. I saw what they did to Robb’s body. When I killed the man who did it the Hound killed the rest of the men that were with him. He then decided to try to ransom me to Aunt Lyssa. We got there three days after she had died. At that point, it was just funny,” she said with a small smile. “And then we met Brienne.”

“She defeated him,” Tyrion said. “You saw the fight?”

“I did. It was something to watch. I’d never seen a woman fight like her. When she defeated him, she and Pod looked for me, but I wasn’t going to go with her. I had something else I needed to do. He was still alive at the bottom of the cliff and I thought about killing him to put him out of his misery.  
But I realized I didn’t want him to die, and if he did, I wouldn’t be the one to do it.”

Daenerys smiled sadly at her. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? That there could be a point in time in which you wouldn’t wish for the death of someone you were certain you wanted dead? It sort of tilts your world.”

“And who would that be for you, your grace?” Tyrion asked.

“You. And your brother,” she said as she lifted her goblet to sip her wine.

“To be fair, I wanted your death, too,” Jaime said. “Actively tried to achieve it.”

“And you were almost burned alive. Seems a fool’s errand now, doesn’t it?” Tyrion asked.

“Most of it does,” he said as he flexed the fingers on his left hand.

Arya chuckled. “This is the most bizarre group of people I’ve ever seen." She sat back in her seat as everyone turned their attention to her instead of the strange tension that had once more built into the room. "You have the Imp of Casterly Rock," which caused Tyrion to glare at her over the top of his goblet, but she was smiling and so he didn't interrupt or correct her, "the Mother of Dragons, the King in the North, the Lady of Winterfell, The Kingslayer, the Onion Knight, the Three-Eyed Raven, a Faceless Man, and the Lord of Storm’s End. What will we all be in ten years?”

Jon smiled sadly. “Let’s get through a second war, and then we’ll worry about the years to come.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You’re so dour, Jon.”

Arya smiled. “Always has been. But he wouldn’t be Jon if he was different.”

He gave her a soft smile before he spoke, “And you wouldn’t be Arya if you didn’t make me feel at peace about it.”

*~*

Arya sat beside the fire, the whetstone sliding over her sword with ease. The flames crackled in front of her and the soft sound of steel being polished was music to her ears. She heard a heavy sigh of frustration sound behind her to her left and glanced at Gendry. He had his head in his hands as he was looking over the scroll in front of him.

She’d helped him learn the very basics of reading. His name. Her name. The sound that AE made when found together, which he needed to know as so much of the history and words had that arrangement. Someone had managed to produce a children’s book when she asked. It had caused speculation for a moment that she was pregnant, but she quickly shut that down and threatened to remove the tongue of anyone spreading that sort of gossip.

Gendry hated the use of the book. He felt it talked down to him. It was Arya’s ingenious idea to write a scroll for him, detailing what she wanted him to do to her, that had actually caused his reading skills to vastly improve. Each line became more difficult to read, and it was front and back. She didn’t intend to give in until he had read the entire scroll and could do each thing without having to say anything to her.

He finally pushed back from the table and removed his jerkin and boots and crawled onto the bed. His hands were folded beneath his head and she turned to look at him with amusement. “Giving up?”

“My head hurts. I think that’s worse than the book,” he said as he stared at the ceiling. She noted that the front of his leathers showed exactly how much of the scroll he was taking in and she had to control her own impulse to keep from crawling on top of him and putting his erection to good use.

She snorted. “You’ll complain about anything.”

He didn’t look at her but he smirked. “It’s the most frustrating thing. I’m old enough I should know how to read, yet I don’t. And the woman I love has decided on a most tortuous way to teach me to read. I can’t decide if I’m angry or sexually frustrated. I’ve gathered that almost every word on that page is filthy and it came from you,” he said as he finally looked at her.

Arya smirked and sheathed her sword, then moved to the table and could see the small hatch marks on the page and how far down he’d gone before he gave up. “But you’re making progress,” she said as she moved to the bed beside him. His blue eyes met hers and she nearly shivered at the heated look in his eyes.

“Yes, slow progress, I suppose.”

She leaned down and kissed him and when he made to grab for her, she slipped easily from his grasp. “But progress nonetheless.” She looked to the packed trunk at the foot of their bed and then the numerous satchels that sat atop it. Her booted foot kicked the trunk and she frowned. “How do you feel about storms?” she asked.

He shrugged. “As long as the keep stands, I’m fine.”

She snorted. “It would be our luck if the keep fell the first day we arrived.”

“Bite your tongue,” he mumbled. But after a beat, he frowned and said, “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.” He sat up then and looked at Arya. “Are we really not going to fuck our last night here?”

That piqued her interest. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. Might be the last time for a while that isn’t in a tent.” He patted the bed beside him, his blue eyes shining with mischief and lust. She rolled her eyes as she climbed onto the bed beside him. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself because you made a good point.”

He shrugged. “I do it so little. Let me have my moment.”

She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. His tongue danced with hers as she moved to straddle him. A low growl emitted from him as she pressed herself against his straining cock. Gendry’s hands were working on the laces of her clothes and she did what she could to help him. Her jerkin went flying to the floor with a thick thud and her tunic followed, leaving her breasts bare to his mouth and hands. She sat back on his thighs and Gendry sat up as his hands slid from her hips to her breasts, pinching her nipples as he nibbled along her collarbone.

Arya moaned as her hands carted through his dark hair. She pressed her cheek to the top of his head and said his name. “Gendry?” He let out a sound that she thought might have been the word ‘what’ but it was mumbled around her nipple. “You know that one day, I’m going to let you marry me, right?”

He released her to look her in the eyes. “Are you going to let me ask you or are you simply going to tell me?”

She leaned down and kissed him. “I’ll tell you to ask me .”

He smiled and nodded. “Alright. Now, shut up unless you’re going to moan my name,” he said as he rolled her onto her back.

She smirked up at him as he removed her leathers and threw them to the floor as well. “I don’t know if I like how arrogant you are about your abilities in this area.”

He sat back and looked down at her. “Well, m’lady , if you find me too arrogant, I’ll stop,” he said as he flopped onto his back beside her. She looked over at him expectantly. However, he didn’t move, simply tucked his arms beneath his head and stared at the ceiling once more.

She moved to her knees beside him and shoved him. “You’re not going to stop!”

“You don’t like how confident I am about it, then I won’t do it.”

“You don’t want to play this game, Gendry,” she warned.

He tilted his head as he looked up at her. “Admit that you like that I know what I’m doing and you like that I’m somewhat arrogant about it. Because it’s me making you moan. It’s me you want inside you. It’s me you’ve chosen. It’s my name you scream when I’m licking and fucking your pretty little cunt.”

Arya shivered at the tone of his voice and naughty words he used. The deep timber and his gruff accent caused a stirring in her belly and she wasn’t going to let her pride stand in the way of what she wanted. “I admit all of that,” she said as she moved to straddle his face. “Now, make me scream for you.” She looked down and moaned at the hungry look in his blue eyes only seconds before she felt his devilish tongue slide effortlessly through her folds. His strong hands gripped her hips and held her in place while his mouth went about a languid but exciting torture. He circled around her entrance, sucked her clit into his mouth and released it before she could get enough friction. He nipped his teeth against her clit, which caused her to buck against him and his grip to tighten.

She braced her hand against the headboard and gripped his hair with the other. She tried to roll her hips, to push against his questing tongue, but his hold on her was too strong even against the weight of her body. Arya did moan for him, a repeated mantra of his name as she closed her eyes and focused solely on him and the pleasure he wrought on her body. She was so close, could feel it building in her stomach, her limbs growing weak when he was suddenly gone from beneath her.

She groaned in protest and didn’t have enough time to turn and scream at him for stopping before he pushed her forward and drove his cock inside her. Arya smiled as he filled her hard and fast, a grunt coming from him each time he slammed into her fully. She fondled her own breast and gasped in surprise when he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back against his chest, his other hand sliding down her stomach to circle around but not touch her clit.

His breath against her ear caused her to shiver. “You love me,” he grunted and she nodded. “You want me.” Again, she nodded. “You’re mine,” he panted. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck! Gendry,” she groaned as his finger finally pressed against her clit, rubbing against it quickly, and she came. He grunted into her ear as she felt her cunt clench around his still thrusting cock. She didn’t think she had the strength to hold herself up anymore and was glad for his strong hold of her.

The snap of his hips grew harder and he released her hair to circle around her shoulders as he rode to his own climax with her hands gripping his hips, moaning at the ferocity in which he took her. His hand, which had been toying with her cunt, pressed against the headboard to hold them up while both tried to catch their breath.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and placed a kiss on his neck. “What was that?” Her voice was soft and full of wonder. She didn’t know where this sudden dominant streak came from, but she liked it. She didn’t want to admit that, but the intensity of her climax spoke volumes, she knew. When he kissed her, his tongue stroked against hers, coaxing another moan from her as she tasted herself in his mouth. That always stirred something within her.

Gendry slid from inside her and brought her down to the bed with him. She turned in his arms and propped her chin on his chest as he folded an arm beneath his head. “What was what ?”

Her eyes met his and she smiled sleepily. “We’ve been doing this for months, now. Not once have you pulled my hair or been that forceful.”

He shrugged. “I suppose I felt like you questioned my reason to be arrogant about how well I fuck you. Out to prove a point.”

She hesitated for a moment, but the playful look in his eye told her that Gendry wasn’t out to be malicious, so she grinned. “Point well proven.”

He chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that or I’ll do it again.”

“That’s not a threat, you know?”

“No, for you that’s a challenge.”

She turned her head to the side and rested her ear over his heart. “Last night in my home.”

He brushed his fingers through her hair and sighed. “It’s become my home, too. First home I ever really had.”

She felt sad about that and decided that together they would make a new one. They would forge a new way in this world. “We’re going to make a new one.”

He nodded. “We are. And who knows what sort of mischief we can get into without the eyes of your sister and brothers.”

She lifted her head and smiled at him. “That is true.”

He smiled and rolled her onto her back, his knee sliding between her thighs. “Just think about it, Arya. You can command how troops are trained. Teach others how to fight properly. Allow little girls to learn as we’ve seen what this world will do to them if they don't. Help people who can’t help themselves.” He tilted his head as his fingers traced from her jaw, down her neck and collarbone to then circle around her nipple. “And how we can fuck whenever and wherever we want because it’s our keep and anyone who doesn’t like it has to keep it to themselves or you’ll kill them.”

She chuckled. “If that isn’t incentive to leave, I don’t know what is.”

He placed a kiss on her lips and pressed his forehead to hers. “We can achieve it all if you’re at my side. I’m already at yours.”

She smoothed her hands over his sides and then down his back. “You have me, Gendry.”

Gendry X & Arya XI

Chapter Summary

Gendry says goodbye to Davos. Arya vs. Jon, and farewells are said.

GENDRY

Gendry searched through the room once more, looking for anything they might have missed that they would want to take with them. Simply looking around caused a pit in his stomach at the thought of leaving the first place he’d ever truly felt home. He knew Arya was having a hard time of it, and he’d tried to keep it light and playful, hopeful even that they would be able to keep that feeling. But even he had his doubts.

The knock on the open door caused him to turn and he found Davos standing in the doorway. “Packed?”

“I think we have everything,” he said as he stood and faced the man who had been like a father to him. The closest to one he’d ever known. “I guess this is farewell for a while.”

Davos moved into the room and closed the door behind him. “As long as you’re not rowing there, you should be fine.”

Gendry chuckled. “I suppose you’re right,” he closed the trunk and frowned. “You were close with Princess Shireen?”

He nodded. “I was. She was...one of the best parts of the Baratheons. She was good. Kind. So much of what Stannis wasn’t. She would have made a fine ruler one day. Just as you will be a good Lord.”

He lifted his cloak and put it around his neck. “I just want people to suffer less.”

“As two men who grew up in Flea Bottom, we’ve seen that more than anyone should. Circumstances change and here we are. A Knight and a Lord.” Gendry slid his hammer into the harness at his back as he went to lift the trunk. Davos stopped him, however. “You’re a Lord. You should let your men do it for you.”

He shook his head. “I may be a Lord, but I haven’t forgotten who I was or who I still am.”

Davos gave him a proud smile. “You’ll need to remember both of those things. Very well, should I help you?”

Gendry shrugged and hefted one end and Davos grabbed the other. He reached over and gathered the three packed satchels on the table. He closed the door behind him as Davos walked down the hall.

As they entered the courtyard, he noticed that people were gathered along the wall. Even as he and Davos deposited the trunk on the cart, his curiosity got the best of him. “What’s happening?”

Davos put a hand on his shoulder and steered him to stand near Tyrion and Jaime. “The King is going to give his sister something she has asked for since he arrived.”

“You mean he’s going to fight her?”

“More or less.”

“Does Jon know what he’s getting into?”

Davos smirked. “Does she?”

*~*

ARYA

She sat with Sansa and Bran the following morning. They were waiting on Jon to join them as he had insisted that they spend the last few minutes alone, the four of them. The door opened and Jon entered the room, his sword at his side, but no outer cloak. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and sighed. “Come on,” he urged and nodded for one of the guards to push Bran behind them.

Arya frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t let you leave thinking that I’m afraid of you,” he said with a smile. “I’m going to give you something you’ve been asking for since I got here.”

Arya’s face lit up. “You’re going to fight me?”

“Just remember I’m your brother,” he said as they exited to the courtyard. Arya adjusted her boots as she withdrew her sword. She noticed that there was a large group standing around, waiting for them to fight. It seems he had told the group what would happen. Gendry and Davos stood together with Brienne, Tormund, and Jaime. Daenerys and Tyrion were near them, though Varys was also at her side. The rest were guards and a few commanders of Jon and Daenerys’ army.

Arya withdrew her sword and held it in front of her, then twirled it in her hand to hold it behind her back. Jon withdrew Longclaw from its sheath, then undid his sword belt and handed it off to Davos. “Five gold dragons on Arya,” Brienne stated.

Tyrion smirked. “I’ll see that. Jon Snow, I would appreciate it if you made me five dragons richer.”

Arya felt her heart hammering in her chest. She knew she was well matched for Brienne, but she’d seen Jon on the battlefield and didn’t know what her level of skill would be against her brother. The tales of him and his sword were near legend now, and it worried her that she wouldn’t match up.

“Stick ‘em with the pointy end,” she said softly and he smiled. Both took their stance and waited, walking circles around one another. Jon advanced first, and she parried the swing, but before she could bring the sword to his neck, he had spun the opposite direction and deflected her strike. Arya felt nothing but the thrill of the fight coursing through her veins. She swung first this time, a low attack, which he deflected easily and advanced on her, sending her stepping backward and to the right. She pivoted, her sword clanging off his as she lunged towards his leg, but he swiped Longclaw to the left, causing her to jump back to escape the swing of his sword

Arya danced to the left, but he blocked that blow easily enough. She was trying to find a flaw to exploit. She needed to if she was going to defeat him. It wasn’t that she wanted Jon to lose, but she certainly didn’t want to. She needed to prove to him that she could take care of herself and that she could do it without him. She needed to prove it to herself, that she was as good as Jon.

But the longer they fought, the more she doubted that. She’d used nearly every trick in the book and yet she felt like he was holding back. She felt sweat moving along her brow and the back of her neck as Jon managed to spin out of another lunge and she felt her frustration growing. And as she advanced again, he swung down hard with his sword near the hilt, the force of which sent her sword to the ground.

She removed the knife at her side and twirled it in her fingers as she spun and deflected a blow. She reached out her foot and caught her sword as it flew into the air and was now fighting with two weapons. However, this didn’t seem to cause Jon to alter his attack all that much as she began to truly advance on him then, but he parried each blow until he knocked the knife from her hand and stood with his blade at her neck.

Arya was almost certain she could hear Tyrion’s smirk at Brienne. She heaved out a sigh and glared at her brother. “You were holding back,” she accused.

He lowered his head a bit as he resheathed his sword. “There were a few things I would have done differently if I was actually facing an opponent I was going to kill, yes.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t fight fair or pretty when you’re facing an enemy. You did against me. I figured I would extend the same courtesy.”

“How do you mean?”

“You could have elbowed me in the face or the back of my head. You could have stomped on the back of my knee. You didn’t do either of those. I took your advance on how to fight you.”

“We weren’t out to hurt one another.”

He shook his head. “I would do anything in my power to keep you from getting hurt, Arya. I did this because...I always wanted to see you become more than a Lady. You’re a warrior. A deadly one.”

She stepped closer as most of the people started to disburse. All except her family. “I couldn’t beat you.”

He frowned. “Consider this: Tormund was right when he said I became a better fighter after each fight. That sort of experience is one I don’t wish on you.” He stepped forward and hugged her after she resheathed Needle. “We both became more than a Lady and a Bastard the last time we parted. Imagine what could happen this time,” he said to her softly.

“I’ll miss you the most, brother,” she said as she clung to him.

He squeezed her tighter. “Take care of each other,” he said before he released her. “Sister.”

Sansa was next and her sister had her normal aloof mask on her features. “It doesn’t seem fair that when you and I manage to get along is when we have to part again.”

“Life’s not fair,” she said, finally. She didn’t think it would be this hard to say goodbye to Sansa. But over the last several months, she had developed a love for her sister that she didn’t realize. She had become her confidant about things she could never talk to with Jon. She even listened to her complain about Gendry on occasion. She stepped forward and hugged Sansa. “Take care of yourself. And if Jaime hurts you, I’ll ride day and night to Winterfell to kill him and give you his head,” she said softly into her ear.

Sansa stepped back and smiled, though unshed tears sat in her eyes. “I appreciate that. And I know it’s true. Be careful. Send a raven when you arrive.”

“Why do you need a raven when you have Bran?” she questioned as she looked at her brother. She hugged Sansa once more. “Be careful,” she said to Sansa once more and moved to Bran and gave him a hug. “Anything I should know before we go South?”

He tilted his head. “You have allies in Storm’s End, already. Men ready to swear to Gendry. They question why you ride with him when you’re not married, but I feel you’ll do a fine job of putting them in their place about that.”

Arya smiled. “You know I will. You’ll keep an eye on us?”

“Two eyes. Travel the road by day, but stick to the woods at night.”

She nodded and turned to see Jon speaking with Gendry. Before she could join them, she was met by Daenerys. “It has been a pleasure to get to know you, Arya.”

She gave a bow of her head. “Take care of my brother?”

Daenerys nodded. “It will be my honor.”

Arya looked around for a moment. “I always imagined what it would be like to meet a Targaryen who rides dragons. Specifically, a woman. I idealized them in my head. Thought there could never be anything more fierce.” Her eyes met Daenerys. “I was right,” she said as a small smile broke across her face.

Daenerys blinked back tears. “This baby is making me an emotional mess,” she whispered before she leaned in and hugged Arya briefly. “Always be you. Never let anyone make you bend to what they want,” she said softly.

Arya stepped away and Brienne was waiting for her. “You didn’t think you would get to leave without saying goodbye to me, did you?”

Arya shook her head. “It’s not good-bye. We’ll see one another again.” Arya smirked as she looked over at Tormund who was speaking with Jaime and Sansa. “Maybe at your wedding,” she joked.

Brienne raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Or yours.”

Arya rolled her eyes. Jon and Gendry approached them then. “The Hound is going to ride south with you until you get just North of King’s Landing. He’s going to do some scouting on the grounds for us.”

She rolled her eyes. “Admit that you still feel like you have to protect me.”

He shook his head. “After what I just saw, everyone else needs protecting. Now, get your ass on the horse so we can leave,” he said as he climbed onto his own, and Gendry onto his. Arya gave Jon one last hug and climbed up, adjusting Needle at her hip. She cast a look at Gendry, willing away the tears. He gave her a slight nod, his blue eyes shining at her. The Hound and the small contingent of men rode out of the keep, Arya and Gendry the last to go, riding out into the great world together.

*~*

Later that night, Gendry was laying on his side reading over the scroll, his brows bunched in annoyance as he had reached a new word. Arya entered the tent and stripped off her boot, jerkin, and leathers, then climbed beneath the furs with Gendry, pushing the scroll out of the way.

His arms immediately went around her as she rested her head on his heart. The only sound that of their breathing and the wind whipping against the tent. She tugged his other arm around her, needing the comfort that only he could bring. She felt his lips against her hair and sighed. “We’ll see them all again, you know that, right?”

She nodded. “I do. I just remember what happened the last time I left Winterfell. It took years to get back.”

Gendry squeezed her a bit tighter. “I won’t allow for it to take that long.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Your word as a Lord?”

He shook his head. “My word as the man who loves you and wants you happy.”

Arya smiled and kissed his chin. “I trust that more than a Lord any day.” She rested her head once more and closed her eyes. “Do you think in a real fight I could take Jon?” Gendry made a noise and she lifted her head slowly, her eyes narrowed. “Well?”

“If I lie, you’ll know. If I tell you the truth, you’ll be mad.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I love you. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen. But he knew what you were going to do before you did it. I think there’s an experience curve there. One in which you should be lucky you didn’t have to endure.”

She rested her head again. “I’ll just train harder and faster. I’ll beat him, one day.”

Gendry nodded. “I have faith in you. Let’s go to sleep.”

She settled in, tugging the fur around her shoulders, even as she slept against the heat of Gendry’s body. It wasn’t the air making her cold, it was the loss of her home and missing her family. But as Gendry drifted into the now familiar snores and his hand had somehow found its way up to her breast, she smiled. “You'll be my family,” she said softly and closed her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Gendry XI

Chapter Summary

Part 1 of the Roadtrip South with The Hound. They pick up a traveling companion along the way as well as shake out a few ghosts.

Gendry

They approached the Twins and he couldn’t make out the banner that flew from the building. He could see men moving along the upper ramparts, though. The Hound stopped them and he looked at Arya. “Says it's a Tully. The Blackfish is dead. Who the fuck is that?”

“My Uncle Edmure. When I killed the Freys I found him in their dungeon and put him at the head of the Twins.”

“You?” The Hound questioned. Gendry watched as realization crossed his face. “Of course you’re the one that killed all the Frey’s. No one sees what you did and lets those fuckers live.”

Gendry tilted his head before he looked over at the Hound and questioned, “Should we send someone ahead to announce us?”

The Hound nodded. “Yes. Never know if it’s a trap.” He looked behind them and ushered forward one of the soldiers. “You. Go to the keep and tell Edmure Tully that his niece Arya Stark approaches for respite.” The man looked at Arya and she nodded.

Arya climbed from her horse and Gendry followed suit, one of the men coming to take the reins. The Hound gave them distance as Arya stood staring at the fortress.

“Last time I was here I killed over fifty men. Baked two into pies,” she said softly.

“Hopefully they’ll give us chicken,” he said softly and the smile he received was worth it. He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her view. “You alright?”

“Even though I killed all of them, I don’t want to stay there. Quick pass through, alright?”

He nodded. “Fine with me.”

“My mother and brother died in there and I was right outside...” she shook her head. “I remember so clearly watching the Frey’s walk outside, slaughter Robb’s men and then kill his direwolf.”

He remained quiet as he wasn’t sure what to say, but also because Arya so rarely lets herself be vulnerable and open. She was willing to do that with him at times, but she kept herself well guarded. She adjusted the harness across his chest and then smoothed down his cloak over his shoulders. He captured her wrists and placed a kiss in one of her palms. “The Frey’s are gone. What is it you said? Winter came for House Frey ? They got what they deserved.”

She nodded. “I know. I just wish I could have done something.”

“But you couldn’t have. You were young, nowhere near the warrior you are, now. You would have been another lamb for slaughter,” he whispered as he stepped closer. “You couldn’t save them, but you avenged them.”

She moved into Gendry’s arms and he held her tight, rested his head against hers. “Just a pass through,” she whispered.

*~*

They entered the courtyard for the Twins and Gendry noticed the look on Arya’s face. He planned to make it known that they would not stay the night. Just giving their horses a rest. Edmure greeted them as they came down from their horses. “Niece,” he said with a half smile.

“Uncle,” she said as he embraced her and Gendry almost smiled to see the uncomfortable look on her face. When he released her, he introduced his wife. “This is my wife, Roslin, and our son, Brandon.” He heaved a sigh. “I figured it was the least I could do since I essentially caused his death.”

Gendry watched him for a moment and then Arya turned to him and he walked forward. “Lord Edmure Tully, this is Lord Gendry Baratheon and Ser Sandor Clegane.”

Edmure and Roslin both bowed their heads and Edmure looked at her. “We’ve heard a lot of tales come from the North. Targaryens saved the world from the dead, have married, and intend to march south. One of those Targaryens being your bastard brother?”

“He’s not a bastard. He never was. My father lied to protect him,” she responded and they were led inside. Gendry wondered if this was the hall where she’d killed all of the Freys? Was it also the same hall in which her family was slaughtered?

“The King is a good man. The best I’ve ever met,” Gendry added, walking beside Arya. “He cares about what happens to people. All people. That’s rare in a ruler, these days.”

Edmure nodded. “It is. And the Queen?”

“Daenerys,” Arya supplied. “She’s small in stature but the ferociousness of her dragons tends to keep people away from her. She and Jon share a vision of what the future should be. They will be passing through here with their armies. I hope you’ll see fit to give them safe passage.”

He nodded. “Of course. And she actually has dragons?”

“Two of them, my Lord,” Gendry answered. “They fought off the army of the dead.”

Edmure hung his head. “I wish I’d had men to send to aid you. As it is we have less than a hundred to guard the Twins. What’s left of the Tully army after...I betrayed my family...”

Arya glowered. “You’re alive. Your family is alive. Your line will continue. Focus on that.”

Edmure raised his head and nodded at his niece. “I suppose you’re right. Where is it you’re going?”

“Jon and Daenerys made Gendry a legitimate Baratheon. He’s going to claim Storm’s End.”

“Why are you going?” he asked.

She looked over at Gendy and his blue eyes focused on her grey ones for a moment before she turned back to her uncle. “I go where he goes.”

He stopped walking then the expression on his face could only be disapproval. “You’re his consort?”

Gendry shook his head. “No. She’s my betrothed,” he lied, quickly, able to see that her uncle was taking issue with them being together and not married. He remembered back to his conversation with Jon and how he’d thought that would be the easy solution if anyone had asked. He tacked on another bit hoping to placate her uncle, “The Hound is her escort.”

Arya only glanced up at Gendry before turning back to her uncle. “Travel to Storm’s End is dangerous under the best of circumstances. We thought it best to travel together instead of in waves.” Edmure didn’t seem to accept this news and Arya rolled her eyes. “Uncle, do you think that I would tolerate anyone being improper with me?”

He glanced at his own wife who had a slight smile on her face. “No, I don’t believe you would.”

“We’re only stopping through. Our horses need a break.”

“We can have rooms made for you...”

Gendry shook his head. “No. We need to get to Storm’s End as quickly as possible. There’s someone waiting for us to arrive.”

“You’re mindful that there could be a trap?”

Arya nodded. “I always assume there is. That’s how I’m still alive,” she said as she was shown to the head table to sit beside Edmure with Gendry at her side.

*~*

Several hours later, they were once more on the road and Sandor was grumbling behind them about giving up a warm keep to sleep when they didn’t have to. As the sun set, and the Twins were well in their past, Arya pulled up her reins and the group stopped. She turned her horse off to the side and started making her way through the woods, the rest of them followed behind her and when she came to a small clearing, they all dismounted. She looked around at the wooded area and then brushed the snow away from what was once a small campfire.

“You’ve been here before?” Gendry questioned.

She nodded. “On my way back North. I stopped here and saw Nymeria. Asked her to come home with me.”

Gendry looked around as the group had started setting up tents. The Hound barking orders at them. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe she’s still around here,” he suggested and he watched her shake her head.

“No. Something happened to her. I stopped having wolf dreams. I had them all the time before...”

“Before what?”

“Before I went home. I still occasionally had them once I got back to Winterfell, but they stopped completely after the battle.” She winced. “I understand Daenerys so well, sometimes.”

“How so?”

“Wanting the world to burn because of how it hurts people.” Gendry tugged her away from the others. He pulled her into a hug and pressed his lips against the side of her head. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she rested her ear over his heart. “I hate this day,” she said finally. “It’s been nothing but pain since I woke up.”

“Luckily, it’s almost over. Start a new one tomorrow.”

She looked up at him and he noticed how her eyes darkened and her lips turned up just a bit, mischief playing at her face. “How much do you have left on your scroll?”

“Half of the back page,” he replied.

Arya heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m breaking my word, again. I want you.”

He furrowed his brow and looked around. “Right now?”

She wrinkled her nose and then shook her head. “No. We’ll wait until after dinner and everyone retires for the night.”

“You’ll have to be quiet. I’m not going to let the Hound follow through on his threat to kill me if he has to hear you moaning.”

She chuckled and pulled out of his arms and they started walking back to the others. “It was good you thought so quickly on your feet when Edmure started asking questions about us traveling together. I didn’t have a ready answer other than to tell him that I can fuck who I want.”

He shook his head. “I think that would have been unwise. He didn’t look placated with the answer I gave him, though, yours seemed to have shut down any argument he had.”

Arya turned to face him once more and he knew only too well what the look on her face meant. He would try to temper his own reaction as it wouldn’t do to sit around the fire and let all those traveling with them know that he intended on bedding her that evening. But the smoldering look in her eyes was hard for him to ignore. And when she spoke, it was all he could do not to drag her deeper into the woods and fuck her before they even realized they were missing. “If only he knew I was the improper one and seduced you all on my own.”

He smiled and nodded. “I do think he would be shocked.”

“Shocked? If he was anything like my mother he would have thrown you into the dungeon, Lord or no, for daring to defile me.”

He let out a loud laugh that caused a few of the others to look over at him, but he paid them no mind. “Defile you?” he finally said. “You snuck into my room while I was taking a bath.”

She nodded. “I know. Seduced you, remember?”

He placed a kiss on her nose. “I remember everything.”

*~*

Arya had already gone into their tent, but Gendry had gotten caught up speaking with one of the men who had helped him in the forge with making the spears. He hadn’t realized it was him until a day after they had set off from Winterfell. Harold, or Harry as he asked people to call him, wasn’t much younger than him and had just begun working in the forge. Gendry hadn’t realized he’d made such an impact on him that when they asked for volunteers to go with them to Storm’s End, Harry had immediately volunteered.

“Would I still be allowed to blacksmith once we get to Storm’s End?” he asked.

Gendry knit his brows and rubbed his hands together as he held them to the fire. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m technically part of your guard.”

He shrugged. “Yes, but I would never hold you to that. If you want to be a smith, I wouldn’t stop you. In fact, that may be one of the first places I inspect when we arrive. After we get everything else situated. Maybe Storm’s End can become known for producing the best quality weapons the kingdom can find.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Harry said as he turned his attention back to the fire.

Gendry then bid everyone good night and made his way to the tent and found Arya sitting up, staring into space with one of the heavy furs wrapped around her. She didn’t even look at him as he began removing his boots and heavy cloak as he sat beside her on their makeshift bed. He removed his jerkin and pulled his tunic over his head and that’s when he felt her eyes on him followed by her hands as she moved around behind him and pressed her chin to his shoulder. “What took you so long?”

He smiled at her. “Sorry. Got lost in conversation,” he said as he took her hand and pulled her around in front of him. She kept the fur pulled in front of her as she moved into his lap. He could barely make out a smile on her lips as the candle in their tent burned low. “What’s the matter?”

She rested her forehead against his and dropped the fur around her waist. She was naked beneath it and when the cold air hit her, she shivered. She leaned over and blew out the candle and smoothed her hands over his shoulders and hugged him to her. “My life was revenge for so long that I sometimes forget what I’ve actually lost. Why I was seeking it in the first place. I didn’t really think about my mother and brother the last time I was there. It was all about getting to Walder and killing him and his line.” Her mouth turned down, her dark eyes looking at his chest and not his face. “But today, in that hall, I can remember how it smelled outside when the men came rushing out. That I could faintly hear my mother scream,” she said softly and it was then that he realized he could hear tears in her voice.

“I’m so sorry, Arya,” he whispered. “But you avenged them. People say that Jon did. But even after the Battle of the Bastards and the Boltons were dead, the biggest liars were the Freys. They invited them into their home and butchered them. But you saw to it that they were erased from this world.  
You did that. Your brother and mother have been avenged.”

She was near to pouting and he brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “And what of my father? Joffrey, Cersei, and Illyn Payne were all on my list because of what they did to my father. Joffrey is gone, but Cersei still lives. I can still kill her. I can still avenge him...”

He sighed. “Perhaps that’s not a life you’re meant to take. Jaime Lannister helped put her where she is. Let him help to take her down,” he said softly.

Arya heaved a sigh. “I want her dead, Gendry. I want her to suffer.”

“Then live well. She would have had you killed. She would now. Live in spite of her. Besides...I need you,” he said softly. “You know I do.”

He heard her sigh. “You do need me. You’d be lost without me.”

He chuckled. “Hopelessly. You’re teaching me to read,” he said as he leaned forward and gently nipped at her shoulder. “I would give you what you wish if I could, but we have another purpose.”

She nodded and moved her fingers through his hair. “I know. I do. Doesn’t meant that I don’t want to slit her throat.”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get the chance to slit someone’s throat. But not hers. At least not until we know if Jaime Lannister fails.” Gendry sighed. “I promise, if he does, I’ll ride with you to King’s Landing myself and you’ll scratch her name off your list.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You understand me better than anyone, I think.”

“Well, I am madly in love with you,” he whispered. “I think that helps.”

Arya placed a kiss on his shoulder and moved from his lap to lay back on their bed. She tugged on his arm to pull him on top of her. “Show me you love me.”

*~*

“Why did you really agree to escort us?” Gendry asked the Hound as they allowed their horses to drink from a stream as they had stopped to rest. Arya had gone into the woods to take care of Mother Nature and Gendry took that opportunity to question the usually coarse man.

“I’m not escorting you. I’m going to be the one that kills my brother. I’m simply going to see if I get an opportunity before they get here.”

Gendry eyed him for a moment and then spoke, “You realize that she doesn’t believe that and neither do I?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you or the little wolf believe.”

He sighed and looked out over the water. “What are you going to do once you do kill him?”

“Fuck my way through King's Landing.”

Gendry chuckled. “Well, that is one way to live out the rest of your days.”

“Why are you talking to me so much?”

His blue eyes widened a bit. “You’re one of the best fighters that’s alive. We’re going to a place where we don’t know anyone to do something neither of us is actually prepared to do. Arya tolerates you better than she does most. If, when you finish in King's Landing, and you want somewhere else to be, you’re welcome in Storms End.”

Clegane stared at him for a long time, so long that Gendry had a hard time not squirming under his gaze. “She’s tried to kill me several times.”

“Could have, by all accounts. But she didn’t. That means...she likes you enough to not want you dead.”

Gendry was a great deal smaller than the Hound and he was more aware of it now than he had been several minutes before as his large presence loomed over him. However, Arya’s voice cut through the tension. “Let’s go. If we ride hard we could get to an inn and not have to sleep on the ground.”

“It’s been a week since we left the Twins which was the last fucking time we could have stayed somewhere that didn’t put rocks in my back. You don’t have to tell me twice,” Clegane bellowed. “Alright, you dumb cunts! On your horses and ride hard to the inn! The last one to get there pays for all of us to stay!”

Arya and Gendry were onto their saddles and riding behind Sandor, the rest of the men following behind them.

*~*

As they climbed from their horses and the men walked them to the stable, Arya stopped him before they went in. “Do you know where we are?”

He looked up at the inn, the stone building looking like hundreds of others they’d passed on their travels North. “Uh? South?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. We’re further south than we were. What I mean is do you remember this place?”

He looked up at the building and went through the times they spent together and the smell of bread wafted into his nose. He looked down at her with a smile. “Hot Pie,” he said softly.

She smiled and nodded. “Hot Pie.”

Gendry followed her inside the inn and found several of the men already seated at a table with ales in front of them. He scanned the room, looking for him as they took a seat with the others. “Arry!”

Gendry turned to see Hot Pie making his way towards them and she smiled. “Hello, Hot Pie.”

Gendry stood and he saw recognition on his face. “Gendry?” He said with a smile and embraced him. “You found 'em.”

Arya nodded. “Wasn’t aware I was supposed to be looking for him, but yes. I found him.”

“I heard you was made a Lord!” He said happily, and Sandor reached onto the tray and grabbed the bowls of stew on them and handed them out to the others, mumbling about shitty service. “And your brother is married to the Dragon Queen only he ain’t really your brother but a secret Targaryen!”

Gendry nodded and sat beside Arya again. “All of that is true,” he said as he gestured to the seat in front of him and Hot Pie sat.

“And you fought the dead?”

Arya nodded. “And the dead lost.”

Hot Pie smiled. “Well, that’s good. Where are you headin’?”

“Storm's end,” Gendry answered. “Do you have rooms?”

“Ten,” he answered.

Sandor grumbled. “Harry here is paying.”

Gendry shook his head. “I’m paying,” he responded and put a small pouch on the table. “Need all ten.”

Hot Pie nodded. “Let me go get you some food. I just made some kidney pies.”

They both watched him go and Gendry leaned over to Arya and smiled. “I have a crazy idea.”

She wrapped her hand around his arm and sighed. “I think I know your idea. But we don’t know what we’re riding into. We hope that it’s good. What if we have to fight?”

“I don’t want to leave him here, Arya, if we’re able to take him with us. Friendly faces where we’re going might be few in number.”

“He’s safe here.”

“You know as well as I do that nowhere is safe.” Gendry glowered. “We can’t hope that he’ll continue to be safe here.”

They watched as he approached and she looked at Clegane. “I know you’re listening. What do you think?”

“You have friends,” he said into his ale. “You two can’t afford friends.”

Gendry gave him a dirty look. “Is he safe here?”

“Fuck no. Nowhere is safe. But that boy isn’t a fighter. Do you think you can keep him alive?”

“No way to promise that anywhere.”

Clegane shrugged. “He makes good food.”

“Let’s leave it up to him. He might be happy here,” Gendry said with a sigh.

Hot Pie returned and put bread on the table as well as pies, stew and more ales. Hot Pie sat down again and Gendry tilted his head at the other man. “How are things here for you?”

“Good. Learning new things every day in the kitchens. I think one of the maids is in love with me. No surprise there, right?” Gendry smiled into his ale and Arya shoved food into her mouth to keep from answering. “How 'bout you two?”

“Betrothed,” Gendry lied, though it was starting to feel like less of one the more he said it.

“To each other?”

Arya chuckled. “Yes. To each other.”

Gendry looked over at her as she looked at him, realizing she had just said it as easily as he had. He would never presume, but it was more than they’d had the day before. “So,” he started, “you’re happy here?”

Hot Pie shrugged. “I get to do what I love every day. You still make swords?”

“Not as much as I used to.”

“Miss it?”

He smiled. “It’s less complicated. Listen, Hot Pie, we’re leaving in the morning. Would you like to come with us to Storm’s End?”

He looked unsure. “Leave here?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What would I do? Would I get to bake?”

Arya nodded. “If you want.”

He leaned back a bit and sighed. “I can think about it, yeah?”

“Course.”

Hot Pie stood and left them as he served food to some of the other patrons. “You realize your problem, don’t you?” Sandor asked.

“What?”

“You just announced that you’re betrothed in a room full of people which means you two can’t share a room.”

Arya furrowed her brow. “Why?”

Gendry sighed. “Because you don’t want anyone to get the impression that I ruined you before we ever get to Storm’s End...fuck.”

“Not tonight you won’t,” Sandor said with a mean chuckle.

*~*

Arya entered Gendry's room as he sat up in the bed with his scroll sitting on his lap. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he sung teasingly.

“When do I do what I’m supposed to do?”

He smiled as she sat on the bed beside him and placed a kiss on his lips. “Never.”

She shrugged. “I would hate to ruin tradition.” She took the scroll from him and put it on the table beside him and her face flushed. “To the world, now, I suppose we’re betrothed.”

“As you’re so fond of saying let people think what they want to think .”

She sighed. “Is that the inevitable?”

He closed his eyes and sat up straighter. “We’re not going to argue about the future again, are we?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been thinking about it though. I assume we’ll eventually get married...should we just really be promised to one another and just cut out the lie?”

He tilted his head. “Is that what you want?”

She was silent for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was lower. He'd come to recognize it as the tone she used when she was afraid. He heard it very little, “What do you want?”

“You.”

She took his hand. “I mean...do you want to be...”

“Arya? Would it make you feel better if I officially asked you?”

She slowly shook her head. “Feel better? No. It all makes me nervous.”

He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “Arya, I love you. Please,” he mocked, “marry me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You sound so desperate.”

He chuckled. “I am. Desperate for you,” he teased.

“Alright, fine. I don’t want to be betrothed yet.”

He placed a kiss on her palm again. “When I really ask, you’ll say yes, right?”

She laughed. “When you really ask.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. “Good. Now go back to your room as I have some reading to do.” She stood and moved away from the bed but his voice stopped her. “Wait. What is this word? I keep coming back to it.”

She turned and looked at the parchment and then smiled. “Thighs.”

“Thighs,” he whispered. “Wrap my thighs...around your head...” he looked up at her, feeling his body react to her naughty words. “Go to bed, Arya.”

She smiled as she walked to the door. “Good night, Gendry.”

*~*

“So, is the fat boy coming with you?” Sandor asked.

“His name is Hot Pie and he hasn’t said,” Gendry responded as he tied his saddlebag to the horse. “How far are we from King’s Landing?”

“Two weeks,” he responded. “We’ll need to keep on our toes when we get close to Harrenhal. I think the Lannisters still hold it. Even though the two brothers are North, their crazy bitch sister still sits on the throne and controls her armies.”

Gendry nodded. “We won’t fly banners, then,” he quipped. Arya and Hot Pie exited the Inn and she smiled at him. “Well, have you decided?”

He nodded. “I’m comin'. But I made you something,” he said as he held out a loaf wrapped in a linen.

It was a stag and Gendry smiled. “You’ve gotten better.”

He then handed one to Arya who took it from him a bright smile on her face. Gendry could see the wolf and that it was much better than the first one he had given to her. “Isn’t this fucking lovely,” the Hound’s voice cut through their conversation. Gendry looked up to find him on his horse, holding the reins loosely. “Get on your fucking horses so we can leave this shithole.”

Hot pie stared at him in fear and she sighed. “You’ll get used to him.”

Gendry chuckled. “No, you won’t.”

Gendry and Arya waited for Hot Pie’s horse to be saddled and he kept his several bags on his shoulder as he struggled to sit on the horse. They both climbed up with ease. Gendry pulled up beside Hot Pie. “Listen, if something bad happens, you’re to get on this horse and race back here a fast as you can.”

“Oh, giving me orders now as a Lord, already?”

He could hear Arya’s snicker from behind them, but Gendry's glance back at her silenced the sound.

“Yes. But more like your friend. You’ve survived this long. I would hate to think you’d die with us.”

“Almost did a few times before. We lived through that, didn’t we?”

Arya pulled up to Gendry’s other side and took his hand. “Somehow.”

They caught up with Sandor and started down the road. It would be another two weeks before they reached the path where they would have to break away from the Hound. Gendry hoped that he would consider coming to Storm’s End when the war was over. He knew how much the Hound hated King’s Landing as he complained about it enough. He also knew that the older man had an affection for Arya, and whether she would ever admit it or not, she had one for him.

He rode alongside Hot Pie who kept up a steady stream of conversation about pies and interesting people that had come through the inn. Gendry wasn’t needed to say much, but the prattling from Hot Pie had caused Arya and The Hound to drop back behind them. Gendry didn’t care. Listening to him talk about food was familiar even if somewhat annoying. He could live with it. The more friends they had when they reached Storm’s End, the better.


	12. Chapter 12

Arya XII

Chapter Summary

The closer they get to King's Landing, the harder it is for Arya to ignore her wish to be the one to kill Cersei. Gendry doesn't take this very well. Farewells are said and cracks start to be mended.

ARYA

They could barely see in front of them, the darkness of night encompassing them completely. The only light came from the torches inside the broken ruin of Harrenhal. The air was cold that Arya thought she could almost see her breath in front of her or the breath of her horse. She was following the Hound, Gendry beside her. She could hear the heavy breathing of Hot Pie behind her, his fear almost a tangible thing she could hold in her hand.

Harrenal held horrific memories for them. So much uncertainty about what their lives would become. She felt a hand on her knee, the fingers moving over her leathers and she realized it was Gendry reaching for her. She put her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, her leg touching his. She couldn’t see him, but feeling him beside her, reaching for her, gave her a sense of comfort and allowed her to breathe a bit easier. They were each other’s rock. He sought her, and she was relieved for it.

She took a deep breath as they got further and further away from the castle. Smaller homesteads could be seen from the road, but the Hound kept leading them forward until they came to a thick forest and led them through until the sound of water could be heard. Beside a stream, Arya finally released Gendry’s hand and they all dismounted. Some of the soldiers with them, Harry, Peeta, and an affable man named Rhys, all went about setting up camp. Hot Pie started the fire as Gendry and Arya went to the stream to collect water. They reached the camp the same time the Hound came back. He had a fox, three rabbits, and an owl. He tossed them at Hot Pie’s feet and went to set up his own tent. Harry and Peeta helped skin and pluck the animals, while Rhys sang a few songs to pass the time.

Arya huddled close to Gendry and closed her eyes for only a moment before she was being shaken awake and handed a bowl of stew and what appeared to be the leg of one of the animals. “How far are we from the Red Keep,” she asked.

“Week,” the Hound answered.

She ate her stew, her mind swirling around the prospect of possibly sneaking into the city, taking Cersei’s maid’s face. And ending the war. She knew their plan. Storm's End was her future, but it would be so easy. No one would suspect her. Gendry could take his group and go to his ancestral home. He said he needed her, but she had seen him fight. He could handle himself. She could meet him there after.

She looked over at him, his bowl discarded, his arms around his knees as he stared into the fire. Her stubborn bull. More bull than stag, at least to her. She would explain it to him. He’d listen and he’d let her go.

She handed her bowl off to one of the others and they set about cleaning up the camp and settling in to their tents. She tugged on Gendry towards their tent and she removed her outer cloak as did he. She rolled out their bed and pulled out another fur and lay it down. He was removing his boots when she finally whispered to him. “I’m not going to Storm's End.”

The boot thudded to the ground and she couldn’t meet his eyes but could feel them as they stared into her. “What?”

“I’m not going. Yet. I’m going to King's Landing and I’m going to kill Cersei.” His other boot hit the ground and she watched as he lay back on their bedroll. He didn’t say anything else, just put his back to her. “Gendry,” she started and was shocked by how quickly he had sat up to face her.

“What? Huh? You want to tell me how I should feel? That I should understand ? Well, I fucking don’t! I’m not going to pretend to be happy. I’m not going to act as if this doesn’t feel like a betrayal because it fucking does, Arya.” He moved a hand through his hair. “I’m just supposed to understand because we love one another. But we made promises and I think I’ve fucking kept mine.”

She felt herself growing angry. “You can take Storm's End without me.”

“That's not the point and you know it.” He lay back and turned his back to her again. “I don’t want to argue about this again. Do what you want. You will whether I like it or not.”

Arya moved closer to Gendry and turned him to face her. “I’ve wanted to kill her since before you and I met. She’s responsible for all the horrid things that happened to my family. I have every right to kill her.”

“Cersei killed my father,” he said finally. “She tried to kill me because I was his bastard that looked more like him than the rest the ones they tried to pass off as his heirs. I have every right to want her dead, too. The difference is I’m trying to put other people ahead of my wants.”

“You didn’t even know your father! My father was a honorable, nobel man, and they killed him and called him a traitor!”

She didn’t know why but the wounded look on his face made everything else hurt more. “A bastard to the end,” he said before he lay down and put his back to her again. She choked back tears, wanting to tell him she didn’t think of him like that. He was more. But she had to kill Cersei. She had to.

*~*

Three days had passed and Gendry hadn’t said a word to her. He was always up before she awoke and feigned sleep when she went to bed. He stayed near Hot Pie and Harry as they rode leaving her with The Hound.

It was on this third day that Clegane finally asked why she was being so nasty to everyone. “I’m not.”

“Oh? Is that why everyone is avoiding you?”

“You’re riding with me,” she pointed out.

“I don’t want to get stuck talking to Hot Pie.”

“We had a fight.”

“Everyone heard your fucking fight. Why haven’t you fixed it?”

“I’m going to kill Cersei. It’s that simple.”

“Is it?”

“I can get in the keep and kill her easier than anyone.”

He was silent a moment and frowned. “And what if you fail? What if he dies?”

“He can fight.”

The Hound growled. “You’re being stupid, girl. There are too many things that can go wrong. You’re wasting time on a pointless vendetta.”

“It’s not pointless! She helped kill my father...”

“She's helped kill a lot of people. This isn’t about you.”

“Just shut up.”

“Ask yourself this question, girl, if he dies, and you could have stopped it, will you be able to live with that guilt and loss?”

She pulled out ahead just far enough to get away from the Hound.

*~*

Arya was setting up their tent. Gendry and the Hound were on the other side of the campfire. She wanted to use the hammer in her hand to bash both the Hound and Gendry until they both saw this for how it really was.

She was going to kill Cersei. Just her.

She was so distracted by her thoughts that the firm yank on her hair and knife at her throat caught her by surprise, and she yelped.

She looked up to see Gendry had jumped clear over the fire, hammer in hand, standing only a foot away from her. But the blade pressed harder to her throat and others came out of the woods, holding their swords to the group.

“All of ya drop your weapons or da little bitch gets it.” When no one moved, he tugged back on her again. “Come on! If ya all do what yar told, we won’ make ya watch as we rape her!” A few others laughed and her eyes met Gendry’s. She knew exactly where this tub of a man was behind her.  
Knew every point she had to hit.

She winked at Gendry and he gave a slow smile. “You’re dead,” he said softly and Arya whipped the knife from her belt and stabbed him in the gut and ducked as a Gendry swung his hammer into his head, sending him to the ground. She pulled out Needle as she and Gendry moved to help the others, but with the Hound leading them, the rest of the bandits were soon incapacitated.

Gendry was suddenly hit in the shoulder with an arrow and Harry killed the man with the crossbow. All of the others were dead as her lover fell to his knees. The Hound examined the wound and removed his knife and cut the fabric around the arrow wound. “Looks clean. Fat boy, go get some water from that stream and boil it.” Hot Pie did what he was told. “At least you aren’t crying like a bitch.”

Gendry winced. “Ever hit your fingers with a hammer on an anvil?”

“No,” he replied.

“This almost hurts more.”

“Girl, take off your sword belt and remove your scabbards.” She did as she was told and handed him the belt. Hot Pie had boiling water and set it beside Arya. “We’ll need that to clean the wound. Boy, put that belt between your teeth and try not to scream too loud when I yank this arrow out.”

Arya helped him as she moved to sit in front of him on her knees. “Hold his shoulders steady.”

She nodded and put both hands on Gendry's shoulders, holding him still as the Hound handed him a cask of wine. “Drink all of that down, boy.”

“Shouldn’t we use that for cleaning the wound?” Arya asked.

He took a cask from Harry. “Rum. Better for wounds,” he said as he still avoided touching the arrow. “Boy, as soon as I pull this arrow out of the Lord’s arm, pour that into it,” he said to Harry who gave a nod.

Arya’s eyes met Gendry's and it was really the first time she had looked at him in days. She noticed the bags under his eyes, the anger that flashed in them, but from the arrow or her presence she didn’t know. “Hold him, girl,” the Hound barked and before either could react, he pulled the arrow out, and Gendry's eyes widened as he screamed around the leather strap in his mouth. He gripped her thighs as the rum was poured into the wound.

She watched him take shuddering breaths. He groaned as the Hound began stitching up the wound. Arya released his shoulders and took the strap from his mouth. When he was done, the Hound sat back. “Keep the wound cleaned and bandaged. Take him down to the stream and clean him up.”

She stood and grabbed the bag Gendry kept his clothes in and helped him stand. They sat at the edge of the flowing water. She helped Gendry out of his torn and blood soaked shirt. “Maybe you should fashion yourself some armor. Keep things like this from happening.”

He didn’t say anything as she washed the blood from his back. She didn’t look at the wound, and the longer he was silent the more frustrated she became. “Talk to me.”

“I need more wine,” he said as he lowered his head. She began wrapping clean linens around his arm and shoulder, a deep sadness pooling in the pit of her stomach. He was turning away from her because she had hurt him. He had still rushed to her rescue, but his anger was still firmly in place.

When she finished, she moved around in front of him and took his face in her hands. “Please, try to understand.”

His face was emotionless and he removed himself from her touch. “Are you done?”

“Gendry...”

He shook his head. “You keep asking me to understand . That I should try to see it from your perspective. That you have to do this.” He reached for an extra tunic and tugged it on, wincing as he slid his arm through. “But those are lies you’re telling yourself to justify what you’re doing.”

His blue eyes flash as he stood over her, his finger poking into his own chest. “See it from my perspective, for once. You and I have been around and around this subject so many times, I can’t hear anything else you say. Back in Winterfell, I offered to let you go, to do the right thing and let you forge your own path, but you told me you wanted this and with me,” he hissed. She could see his anger and pain so clear it felt like he had physically hit her.

But the resigned sadness in his tone actually hurt more. “But you don’t. You want the idea of it, but not if it means you have to give up your plan. I won’t be as nice about it this time. I’m furious and hurt...just ride ahead and go on your mission already. I’m tired of being taunted by the hope of your face,” he said as he turned and walked away from her.

*~*

One day away from the road to take them to King's Landing, and Gendry had become more sullen, more withdrawn. He no longer engaged with the other men, not even Hot Pie could get him to talk. The Hound of all people had tried to engage him in conversation but nothing worked.

Gendry has even stopped staying in their tent, but had grabbed an extra bedroll and slept under the stars. All of this made her feel wretched. The rest of camp had even grown somber in the wake of their lord’s dour mood. Rhys didn't sing songs. Harry didn’t ask him questions about the forge. Even Hot Pie had stopped talking about food. All the while, she could feel the Hound glaring at her. She finally had enough and wandered into the woods under the guise of tending to herself. But she slumped against a tree, brought her knees to her chest and hung her head. Defeated. That’s what she felt. The snap of a branch near her and she looked up to see the Hound. He frowned at her. “Girl, if you don’t find some way to make that boy chipper again, everyone in that camp is going to hang themselves.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Right. Take it from someone who has let revenge cloud their path for years, it changes you.”

“Oh, I suppose you were cheerful like Loras Tyrell before your face was burned.”

“Nothing’s changed with you. You still think you’re smarter than everybody else. Well, listen little wolf, revenge is a dead end game. There is no coming back. He seems to understand that better than you.”

She shook her head. “I should have killed her a year ago. I was going to and...I changed course.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath. “Family. I found out about Jon and Winterfell...”

“ Family ? That boy not count as family?” She hesitated for a minute and the Hound winced. “Young, in love, and fucking stupid. It’s not your place to kill Cersei. You know it. You swore to your brother that you’d go to Storm's End. What’s changed?”

She stood and leaned back against the tree. “We’re so close. When I agreed, we were half the country away. But now, being so close, knowing I could end it...”

“Let’s say you end it. Then what?” He asked, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword and his eyes burning into hers. She always hated him for being able to read her so well. Read her in a different way than Gendry. Sandor Clegane saw the ugliness inside her and it was because the same ugliness existed inside him.

“I slip out of the castle and go to Storm's End.”

“What of the city? Without a leader, the city would collapse in on itself. The pampered Lords or thieves would seize all the food. The people, the truly poor people, begin starving. Riots. Death. Cannibalism. Kids are always the first to go. Smaller. Defenseless. What girls there are that don’t get eaten get raped and used. Civilization disappears...”

“You’re saying she’s a good queen?” She was aghast.

“Fuck no. But her position holds that sort of thing off. Your brother and the dragon queen have a plan and an army that can instill peace. What do you have besides a half-hatched idea and a sword? You go in and kill her, by the time they get here, there won’t be a city to rule. Nothing but animals that have to be put down. All actions have consequences. Consider yours,” he said before he walked away.

*~*

She didn't understand what she was seeing. It looked to be a bull, but the great antlers coming from its head appeared to be more stag. This animal was surrounded by a pack of small wolves and ahead on the road was a storm. A horrific storm.

Arya wanted to scream for them not to go into it. The swirling wind, the horrific lightning, the rain that hit the ground like arrows, she knew how dangerous it was. She watched helplessly as they continued on and the storm seemed to subside. She didn’t understand why she still felt dread. The sun was shining as the bull/stag took his rightful place at the top of the hill. The wolves all howled. It was a celebration.

But she felt the change of the wind. Heard the faint melody of an ominous song drift over the wind.

The bull was shocked by the first lightning bolt. Each wolf was struck down in front of her, panting and staring at her before they stopped breathing. The bull was still being pummeled with lightning, and through the storm she saw the lioness stalking her prey.

Another lion with antlers surged forward and attacked the bull, getting him to the ground. The lioness, with her golden crown, leaned down and ripped out the heart of the bull. It prowled toward her and spit the heart at her feet.

Arya woke with a sweat, her body hot beneath the furs. She exited the tent and found the fire dying, and on the other side, Gendry. Her head hurt after that dream. Her bull, her stag, her love was in danger going to the Storm’s End. She knew that much. Cersei probably already had a plan in place on how to end them both.

Her heart ached. She truly had to decide between her hopes at revenge or Gendry. She lowered her head and felt actual tears of frustration roll down her cheeks. She could do it. She knew she could. She could kill Cersei and be done with it. Arya did feel worry that what the Hound said was true about the city. Jon and Dany wouldn’t be here for at least a month or more. The people would probably begin turning on one another and that...that would be her fault.

But as she looked at Gendry again, she felt fear. They had gone down such dangerous roads. They finally found themselves together, which she had been certain was impossible. He’d been there for her. Cared for her when she was injured, had her back during every fight, understood not wanting to stay in the keep where her family had been slaughtered. He knew her and loved her. She continued to hurt him because of fear. Arya didn’t think it was selfish to want revenge for her family.

She felt the wisps of her dream moving in around her. Was a trap being set? She finally pushed on Gendry's shoulder and he gripped his hammer immediately before his bleary eyes found hers in the dying firelight. “What?”

“I want to talk.”

“I don’t,” he said as he rolled to his side away from her.

“Do you think that ignoring me makes any of this better?” She hissed.

“Go away, Arya.”

“If you two are going to fucking fight, go somewhere else to do it,” came the Hound’s voice from his own tent.

Gendry threw off his blankets, pulled on his boots and tunic and started walking into the woods, his hammer in his hand. She noticed they were far enough away that the firelight was faint.

“What? What else do you have to say? How many other ways are you going to make this fucking argument?”

Arya took a deep breath. “I want to kill her.”

She could barely make him out in the moonlight, but she could see his shoulders tight with anger. “Great. Go kill her then. Stop fucking tormenting me.”

“I want to, but I won’t.” His shoulders sagged and he hung his head. “I’m not going to King's Landing.”

He looked up at her, a frown still on his face. “How long until you change your mind or resent me  
for that choice?”

She shook her head. “Neither of those.”

“Arya, we’ve been through this fight before. We’ve been through this solution before. You’ll never be happy if you're not the one that kills her. So, go kill her. I’ll go do what I have to do.”

He sounded so defeated. She was so bad at this. She felt all of these things that she didn’t know how to express. Anger made sense. Even lust made sense. But what she felt now was complete turmoil. She stepped closer to him and huffed out an angry breath and could hear the tears in her own voice. “I’m not going to King's Landing. You’re right. We made promises. I made promises. It’s very hard for me to let go of the little girl that stood in front of Baelor’s statue where my father was beheaded. Hard for me to block out the screams of my sister when he was killed.” She stepped forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “My father was a good man. Honorable, good, loyal and they killed him, Gendry. They called him a traitor and they killed him,” she cried.

She felt so tired and didn’t realize they had sank to the ground until she felt both arms around her waist, holding her tight.

*~*

They came to the road that would take them South to Storm’s End and Arya looked over at the Hound. “You sure you don’t want to come with us? We could use your help,” Gendry asked.

Sandor shook his head and looked at Arya. “And you? You’re going?”

Arya nodded and gave him a small smile. “I have to protect the Lord of Storm’s End. Don’t die.”

“Same to you,” he turned to the other road.

Gendry’s voice called. “Remember, Clegane, when you get what you want, you’re welcome in Storm’s End.”

He only gave a wave before he kept on. Hot Pie moved forward and looked over at Arya. “I think I’m going to miss him.”

Everyone looked at him. “Really?”

Hot Pie nodded. “He was direct. You always knew where you stood with him.”

Arya smirked. “I suppose that’s true,” she said as she watched the Hound go into the King’s wood and turned her horse onto the road south. “We’ll need to really keep watch now that he’s not with us.”

Gendry nodded. “And expect the worst in Storm’s End.”

“Assume it’s a trap.”

Hot Pie heaved a deep breath. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine.”

They road until the sun began to set and moved into the woods. The camp was rather quiet without the Hound barking orders at the men to do the things they needed to do. Instead, they went about their tasks, as if it was second nature, now. She watched Gendry as he laughed at something Rhys said and took a deep breath. She was choosing her future, not her past. Her dream let her know that something bad was coming. But they would be prepared for it.

“You alright Arry?” Hot Pie asked as he sat beside Arya and began to arrange his pots and such over the fire. Peeta had caught rabbits and was in the midst of skinning them for Hot Pie to cook. A few of the other soldiers, ones she hadn’t quite gotten a grasp on their names, were setting up perimeter watches with the now in command Gendry.

She couldn’t kill Cersei. But she could protect the Lord of Storm’s End. She could avenge her father’s best friend by making sure his heir lived. She glanced at Hot Pie and gave him a small smile. “I’m good. You?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. How long until we get to Storm’s End?”

“Two weeks, I think.”

Hot Pie took the rabbits from Peeta and strung them over the fire, a pot beneath them to prevent direct heat and to allow the juices from the animals to drip into it. Hot Pie added mushrooms and some radishes he’d found growing in the wood. “I’m glad you and Gendry got sorted out.”

She looked over at him, a frown on her face. “I have to make sure he’s safe.”

Hot Pie chuckled and continued slicing mushrooms. “That’s funny.”

“Why is that funny?”

“The night we were attacked by them bandits. He jumped over fire to get to you. Seems he wants to make sure you’re safe, too.”

She looked at Gendry again. She stood and dusted off her leathers and as she approached the soldiers dispersed. Arya wanted the kind of solace that only Gendry could give, but there were too many prying eyes around for her tastes. She needed a cover. “I hate to say this but you stink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She nodded. “You smell of sweat and horse,” she said and motioned for him to follow her and grabbed her saddle bag and carried it with her. They snuck by the others and went towards the sounds of running water and found a stream that flowed from the Blackwater Rush that made it deep enough for them to get in. She unlaced her tunic. “Come on.”

He eyed her wearily. “If I stink, why are you getting undressed?”

She pulled her boots off and shucked her leathers. She pulled the band from her hair and stood in front of him in nothing but her tunic. “I need you clean,” she said as she put the soap in his hands and his lips twitched as he remembered those being the words she’d said to him the first time they’d spent the night together.

He gave her a small smile and a nod. It wasn’t fixed, the crack she had put in their relationship, but when she leaned in and kissed him and she felt him kiss her back, she knew that it could be.

Gendry XII

Chapter Summary

Gendry and Arya make it to Storm's End.

GENDRY

Their group was currently camped beneath a crops of trees, hoping the rain would ease. They would need to get back on the road in the morning, he only hoped the wind would calm as it was making it nearly impossible to set up a true camp. The saddles had been removed from the horses and being kept beneath the heavy covers they used as their tents. The use of a bonfire to keep them warm seemed to be a wish at this point, however Hot Pie was working to build what appeared to be a closed oven to cook them something, rocks stacked together that appeared to fall over. The others searched for the place beneath the canopy of the trees for the place where they would get the least wet.

He leaned against a tree, staring at the muddy road ahead of them even as the dark clouds made it difficult to get a good glimpse of it. The last inn they passed over a day ago had told them that they’d crossed into the Storm Lands. The closer they grew to the keep that belonged to his family, his ancestors, the more nervous he became. He would have felt better if the Hound had still been with them. Despite the man’s grumbling, there was something about his presence that made Gendry feel safer, and he knew the other men felt the same.

He felt her presence behind him before she appeared at his side. “I suppose we’ll have to get used to bad weather, won’t we?” her voice held a tinge of hope which in turn settled his own weariness a bit. It helped soothe him when Arya was more certain.

He smirked. “I’d wager that the Storm Lands didn’t earn their name from being tranquil.” She had her arms folded over her chest and she huffed out a breath that curled out in front of her. It wasn’t perfect between them, but it was getting back to their semblance of normal. “Something’s on your mind?”

She heaved a deep breath and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I feel like we’re walking into a trap.”

Gendry turned to face her and leaned back against a tree. Her face was nearly cloaked completely in shadow, but what little light covered her features, he could see she was worried. That set him on edge even as he tried to reassure her. “You suspect everything is a trap, right?”

Arya frowned. “In my experience, it usually is.”

He nodded. “We’ll go in expecting it. Don’t let our guard down for any reason until...until when?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her dark hair was wet, dripping with water. They were only a few days, perhaps fewer if they could get the horses and really push them. The idea of being warm and in a bed seemed almost a fantasy at this point. “I had...a disturbing dream about...let’s just say we all need to be on our guard.”

He pulled her close to him and tucked her beneath his cloak. He rested his head against hers, feeling like she needed his comfort, though she rarely asked for it. She felt it would make her appear weak even though he never doubted her strength. She tucked her head between his chin and chest. She was soaked, but he would keep her beneath the warmth of his cloak until she decided to move. “Tell me about your dream.”

“I don’t even understand it.”

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me anyway.”

She relayed her dream, of the bull with stag’s horns in the center as the wolves around him were struck down even as he was repeatedly hit. About the lion and lioness coming out of the shadows and the bull having his heart removed. His mind swirled, finding the implication of her dream to be a bit more than he wanted to contemplate. Gendry placed a kiss at her temple and heaved out a sigh. “It probably doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“I think it means that we’re walking into a trap, they’re going to kill you, and everyone with us.”

He frowned. “Where were you in this dream?”

“Watching, I suppose.”

He pulled back but didn’t release her from his hold. “Does that sound right? That you would simply watch us all die without fighting back?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Then I’m less worried.”

“I just wish we were there, already. It feels like we’re on the edge of something, good or bad, and you know how I hate waiting,” she said, a frustrated lilt to her tone and he felt her bunching the fabric of his tunic in her hands.

He gave a small chuckle. “I’ve only ever known you to have endless patience.”

“Are you mocking me?”

He nodded. “Yes, m’lady. I am.”

She lifted her head and her grey eyes appeared playful. “I should punish you by walking away, but you’re so warm.”

“Stay as long as you like, then.” His arms tightened around her a bit more.

They heard a triumphant cry behind them and turned to see Hot Pie pumping his fist in the air. “Fire is lit and staying that way!”

“Grab your bows. We’ll hunt for something,” Harry called and the others grabbed did as told.

Arya started to move away, he was sure to help, but he held her to him. “You stay. They can manage without you.”

“That your order as a Lord?” she asked as she looked up at him.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You would never listen to an order.”

She laid her head back down and tightened her arms around his waist. “It depends on the context in which it is given.”

“I’ll never give you an order. You’re going to make your own choices,” he said softly, still feeling the sting of their fight only a week before.

“And you let me make those choices. Whether you like them or not.”

He leaned his head against hers. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“I wouldn’t have lived with myself if something happened to you,” she said, her voice soft, nearly drowned out by the rain. “Not if I could have been there to help.”

“Will you hate me for it? Years from now will you resent me?” He wondered allowed.

She shook her head. “No. It was my choice. You wouldn’t have liked it, but you would have let me go. I chose this over revenge.”

He smirked. “You’re getting soft.”

“Shut up or I’ll kick you.”

*~*

Gendry didn’t know what to make of the fact that the sun was peeking through the clouds as Storm’s End came into view. The sound of the surf could be heard as Gendry and Arya stopped their horses at the crest of the hill. They had been riding with the banners down, not wanting to draw attention to their travels. But now, faced with the keep in front of them, Gendry looked back at the men with them. “Banners out.”

Arya took a deep breath beside him, her hand flexing over the hilt of her sword. “All of you stay alert.” He watched her refocus on the keep. “This is probably a trap.”

Gendry noticed Peeta exchange a look with Rhys, but Gendry ushered the two men with the banners, Stephen and Reynold, to the front. “We’re all in this together. Protect one another. Go.”

The banners whipped in the breeze as they began rushing forward. The closer they got to the keep, the harder his heart beat. He glanced at Arya, her face one of determination. She would protect them all if it was physically possible. But the thought of losing her was all too real. She didn’t think she needed it, but his goal was to protect her .

The Baratheon sigil was flying from the walls of the keep and from the turrets. He didn’t see many outlying buildings but knew from Tyrion that the construction of the keep was such that it could withstand the intense storms. As they approached the gates, they were opened to permit them inside. The courtyard was small and mostly empty save for a few young men waiting to take their horses.

They all dismounted, Arya coming to Gendry’s side, looping her arm through his. She was playing the part of a lady, obviously, otherwise, she never would have done this. Gendry realized with some trepidation that they were probably being watched.

“Welcome m’lord. Ser Gilbert Farring is waiting fer ya inside,” he said, gesturing to two double doors.

“Why didn’t they meet us out here?” Arya asked, keeping her cloak covering her sword.

“Weather is finicky. Ne’er know when a storm will brew.”

Gendry gave a nod and their horses were led away to an opening in the castle wall that appeared to lead underground. Stephan and Reynold led the way inside, their hands on the hilt of their swords, Gendry and Arya behind them, Harry, Rhys, Peeta, and the others followed.

The room smelled of the sea but also of rain. The trickle of water moved over the stones and through the floor. A large hearth was standing lit behind the group in front of them, no riser or such to distinguish them from the interested parties gathered around the perimeter. “Fourteen soldiers along each wall. Four with the men up front,” Arya whispered.

“That’s a lot.”

She didn’t even look at him as she kept a pleasant smile on her face. “Nowhere for someone with crossbows to hide. No higher ground.”

“Welcome, Lord Gendry Baratheon. We have been expecting you.” Ser Gilbert Farring bowed his head to Gendry. He was a tall man with a square jaw. “I am Ser Gilbert Farring. Your Uncle, Stannis Baratheon, installed me as castellan of Storm's End. This is my second in command, Lord Elwood Meadows, and our Maester Jurene.”

“Ser Farring. Lord Meadows. Maester.” He took a deep breath. “This is my betrothed, Lady Arya Stark.”

The knight bowed to her. “Welcome to Storm's End.”

Gendry took a deep breath, feeling more anxious the longer they stood there, both companies seemingly sizing one another up. Lord Meadows stepped forward then, a pleasant smile on his face. “We would like to show you the keep, my Lord. Most of it is housed within these walls.” He looked to his left, “And perhaps a few of the ladies could show Lady Stark...”

“No,” he said immediately before Arya could protest. “She stays with me.”

“My Lord, I assure you she is safe here.”

Gendry shook his head. “My Lord, it’s been my experience that nowhere is ever safe.”

Lord Meadows looked to the Maester, then Ser Farring. “Very well,” he said calmly and gave a slight nod of his head to one of the soldiers standing along the wall.

Gendry felt like time was moving so quickly he barely had his hammer in hand before several of the guards stepped from the walls and Reynold was run through with a sword. The rest of the soldiers with them unsheathed their blades, Arya still at his side. Ser Farring burst toward Lord Meadows with his sword as the maester stepped back toward the far wall and watched as soldiers began fighting Gendry and his team.

With a swing of his hammer, Gendry took out two, watching the breastplates crush in and Arya was moving around their circle, protecting each of them with Needle. The other soldiers who hadn’t been attacking their group jumped in to help Gendry, Arya and his men, most of the attacking soldiers had fallen and only Reynold lost from their group. His heart was near to pounding out of his chest as he advanced on the two still fighting.

It was Arya’s thin blade that pressed through Lord Meadow’s throat. Gendry watched as he spit blood from his mouth before he collapsed on the floor, dead. She turned her sword onto Ser Farring. “Were you part of this ambush?” Gendry asked. “Are you in the pocket of Cersei Lannister?”

He shook his head, his eyes glaring at the dead man on the floor. “No. I’m loyal to the Baratheons.”

“Some would argue Cersei was a Baratheon.”

“Some would also argue that she should have been executed for killing her husband, the true Baratheon king.”

Arya tilted her head. “And you know that two Targaryens march towards King’s Landing to take it from her.”

He nodded. “I served Robert, then Stannis. The entire realm suffers under her. If the Targaryens feel they can do a better job, then let them take it. My job is to serve the Baratheons in Storm’s End.”

Arya frowned. “Swear it, now, to your Lord.”

Ser Gilbert moved to one knee in front of Gendry, Arya at his side, her sword dripping blood on the floor. The rest of the men watched as Ser Farring pledge his sword and life to Gendry and his protection.

Gendry turned eyes to the Maester and took a deep breath. “I need to send a raven.”

*~*

Gendry knelt over Reynold’s fallen form, feeling guilt coursing through his veins. This was his fault. He should have better prepared them, especially after Arya’s dream. “I’ll make sure he is properly taken care of, my Lord.” Gendry looked up at Maester Juren and only gave him a nod.

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and turned to see Arya at his side. “He was quiet.”

Gendry nodded. “More so than the others, that’s for sure. I sent a raven to your sister in Winterfell to let his family know. I also sent one to Darry. Jon and Daenerys should be there by the time the raven arrives.” He frowned and glanced at her, seeing the resolute expression on her face. “Where are the others?”

“Harry and Peeta are outside the door and the others went with Ser Farring to the kitchens with Hot Pie. Ser Farring said he’ll join us after he’s shown them the way.”

He nodded. “Good. I have questions.” He looked at her solemnly, his voice low. “Perhaps it might be prudent to play the game of faces.”

She walked with Gendry to the door and then out to the hall with Harry and Peeta following. He still had his hammer in his hand and he knew Arya had Needle at the ready. They made it back to the main hall and Ser Farring was seemingly waiting for them.

The knight held his head high, but even Gendry could see that he was trepidatious. “I am sorry about Lord Meadows. I...I did not know about his treachery.”

Gendry glanced at Arya and she nodded. “He was your second but you didn’t know?”

“It was a mistake on my part. He had been by my side since Stannis appointed me to Storm’s End. He was my friend for longer than that.” Gendry cast his eyes at Arya and a small nod told him to continue but Ser Farring gave them both a wary look. “What is happening here? You continue to look at her and wait for her to nod.”

Gendry took a deep breath. “Lady Arya has the ability to tell if you’re lying. So far, you’ve been honest, and you have nothing to fear from her or me as long as you continue to be so.” He looked around at the hall. “Did you order the hall cleared or did Lord Meadows?”

He tilted his head. “Lord Meadows. He told me that it would be better if the area looked...it’s a ridiculous statement, now, though.”

“And what is usually in this room?” Arya asked.

Ser Farring took two steps forward and extended his hands, “There’s a long table here,” he explained. He gestured to the water dripping down the stones behind him. “This is the centerpiece of the hall.” He looked down at the rest of it. “There are smaller tables laid out down there - usually thirteen, but for feasts, we can do fifteen. We’ve been allowing the soldiers and their families to come in and eat here. The hall...it echoes too much if there aren’t people in it.” As if to prove his point, Gendry heard his words echo over the stone.

He nodded, deciding that it would be a better way of getting to know the people that lived in the keep and would help maintain it. He knew that loyalty from the small folk within the walls would serve better, at times, than having pompous lords telling him what to do. “We’ll continue that. Fill this room with people.” The rumble of thunder could be heard and he felt nearly dead on his feet with exhaustion. “Ser Farring, it has been a long day. Would you show us to the Lord’s chamber?”

He cast a look at Arya and then Gendry. “We have a room prepared for your lady.”

Arya stepped forward, however, and silenced him. “I go where he goes.”

He furrowed his brow looking to protest. “You’re...betrothed.”

“Does that matter to you?”

“To me, no. But it might matter to some of the Lords that are sworn to the Baratheon’s. They still adhere to the Faith of the Seven and if they find out...”

“Will you be the one to gossip, Ser Farring?” Arya asked, but didn’t wait for his answer. “Given what happened here today, Lord Gendry and I will not be out of one another’s sight for long.”

Gendry nearly smirked at how well she put the man in his place. “Our men will also be the ones to guard us until I feel more secure with the people residing in this keep.”

Ser Farring nodded. “Of course, my Lord. I’ll show you to your chambers personally.”

Arya linked her arm through his again and he gave her a brief smile. Ser Farring led them down a set of stairs and toward the middle of the castle. He thought it would have been higher up. “The Lords chamber is in the center of the castle?”

Ser Farring nodded. “Yes, my Lord. Most of the rooms are located in the center of the keep.” Gendry took to mind each turn and how to get back to the main hall.

They stopped outside of a door with a stag carved into the wood. Ser Farring opened the door with the key and then placed it in Arya’s hand. She opened the door and much like the hall, water dripped down the far wall. He could make out what looked to be a large four-poster bed; the closest to heaven they could ever hope to touch.

“We’d like a bath drawn...”

But the smile on Ser Farring’s face cut him off. He walked into the room to show a bathing house with an attached privy as part of the main suite complete with steamed water and yet another waterfall dripping into it. “Your suite comes with a natural hot spring. The rooms for your men are down the hall.”

“Another waterfall,” Arya remarked.

Ser Farring nodded. “It’s the way the water collecting from the roof gets down. It drips through the castle and warms the lower it goes.”

Gendry felt himself truly smile. “Tomorrow, I would like to see the rest of the keep. Also, have Hot Pie, the cook that came with us, bring our food here as well as the soldiers guarding him. I’d like us to all have a meal together in honor of Reynold.” Ser Farring nodded. “Oh, one last thing,” Gendry said to Ser Farring, “You are welcome to join us for our meal.”

He gave Gendry a genuine but sad smile. “It would be my honor my Lord, but I need to personally write to Lord Meadows wife to tell her what happened. Any punishment to reap on her?”

Gendry shook his head. “She lost her husband who turned out to be a traitor. I would think that is punishment enough.”

Ser Farring nodded. “I will have the main hall set up once more in the morning and you can break your fast with the soldiers.”

“And the small folk,” Arya said after several moments of silence. “Gendry was once a blacksmith. I suggest that be the first stop on our actual tour.”

Ser Farring nodded. “Of course. I shall see you in the morning and will give your message to your company.”

Gendry shut the door behind him and he and Arya began searching every crevice of the room where someone could possibly hide.

Their large trunk was already at the end of the bed. He came back into the main chamber once more and examined the room. He sat on the arm of a chair taking it all in. A fire was burning in the large hearth, great antlers hanging over it. Stags and does alike were carved into the stone surrounding the fire.

He felt her hands smoothe over his neck and he looked at her, wondering if he looked as tired as she did.

“Stand up for a moment?” She took his hand in hers, then hugged him tightly. Her breath puffed heavily in his ear and he squeezed her a little tighter. “Congratulations, Lord Gendry Baratheon.”

He shook his head as he pulled back from her. “I don’t feel like there’s much to celebrate. Reynold died, we could have all been slaughtered in that main hall...”

“But we weren’t,” she said softly, her fingers scratching at the scruff of his neck. “We’re going to see to it that Storm's End thrives. We'll do it together. You’ve already sent home about his death to his family and we’ll arrange that he has a proper send-off, even if we can’t send him home to the halls of his father. We’ll uphold the traditions as best we can.”

A knock sounded on the door and Arya moved from his arms to open the door. Several servants came in with laden trays of food which had Gendry's mouthwatering. Their main sitting room was cleared away, leaving room for a large table to be set up. The rest of their men, those who had traveled from Winterfell with them, came in after the servants. Gendry could see they were also taking the death of Reynold hard. Peeta’s usually happy face was turned down in a frown. Harry’s exuberance had seemingly been snuffed out like a flame. They had all grown close out of proximity but became like brothers out of necessity. He felt the guilt hanging around his neck like a yoke.

Gendry gestured to the seats as Hot Pie was the last to join them. He handed a rolled up cloth to Gendry which he unwrapped and smiled to see a loaf of bread shaped into a stag. He smiled up at Hot Pie. “Thank you. Perhaps you’ll do the honors for us and cut it?”

He nodded and took his seat on the left beside Arya. Wine was poured, food was served, and the men even managed to find a little laughter as they went along. It was Harry who spoke the question that still weighed heavily on his mind. “Do you think they’ll attack us again?”

Everyone went silent and Arya spoke. “Soldiers are hard to predict. But I think if the townspeople are won over then it shouldn’t be as easy to corrupt them.”

“People can be bought,” Rhys offered. “An unfortunate reality we had to face today.”

“And for days to come,” he sighed. “I’ve requested that only our men guard Arya and I because you’re the only men we can trust. Also, there has already been a statement about Arya and me staying together.”

Arya shrugged. “Their problem.”

“True. But you gentlemen will be discrete and if asked...”

“If asked about Lady Arya we’ll tell the truth. There is no woman more fierce or loyal than her and no one who would fight harder for Lord Baratheon and what you do is no one's concern,” Peeta interjected. “We will defend you and your honor, Lady Stark.”

The others around the table chimed in and Arya smiled, and Gendry would tease her later, at the hint of red on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said after a long pause.

Gendry took a deep breath. “Tomorrow we’ll actually get a tour of the keep and I’ll start making inquiries about the forge for you Harry, if you’re still considering blacksmithing.”

Harry sat back in his chair. “Maybe in the future. I wouldn’t abandon your guard with a threat hanging over you.”

Gendry took a deep breath. “Your loyalty is appreciated, but I wouldn’t let you abandon your desire to be a smith if that’s what you want.”

“You need to be seen as the Lord of Storm’s End by everyone and that to be secure before I can move along to another position.” Gendry felt a great swell of pride for the men sitting around his table. “I’ll accept your offer when the war is won.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “If that is what you want.” After a moment, Gendry gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

*~*

Gendry stared up at the canopy, unable to find sleep. Even though he was relieved to finally be warm and dry, safely inside a keep, his keep, he still felt the weight of everything weighing on him. Arya lay on her side facing him, the little puffs of her breath against his shoulder were reassuring. He still had her. He felt restless and finally sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He looked around the darkened room. The bed took up a majority of the space, settled in the center of the room and the hearth was on the wall across from the bed. The fire was nothing but burning embers. It was larger than the room he and Arya had shared at Winterfell. Different sizes of antlers adorned each wall. The lack of windows made it hard to know what time of day it was, but the room was warm, the bed was soft, yet sleep still eluded him.

He put his head in his hands and sighed. He relaxed a bit as he felt her hands move along his shoulder and then her body pressed against his back. “Why are you still awake?”

“Worried,” was all he said.

She wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. Thunder could be heard which made him wonder what sort of storm was taking place if the sound of it could be heard deep within the walls. “Tell me what you’re worried about. I might not be able to help, but it could make you feel better to talk about it.”

He covered her hands with his. “A lot of people are depending on me. I’m worried I won’t be what the people need me to be.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I worry that people will slander you. What if it’s as Ser Farring says and the other Lord’s take offense? I won’t have anyone speak ill of you, Arya. I’d see them dead first but I feel like that is the wrong reaction.” She released him and he turned to face her. “I love you,” he whispered. “You are what’s important to me.”

Gendry looked down as she took his hands. Her voice was soft when she spoke, “I love you, too. I don’t want to be pressured into marriage...”

“That is not my intent with this conversation,” he interrupted her.

“I know,” her voice was reassuring. “We will take it as it comes. You’re the Lord of a great house. I’m your betrothed. We can leave it at that and deal with any issues that arise... if they arise.” She cupped his face in her hand and pressed her forehead against his. “As for the rest of it, we’ll figure it out together.” He released a sighed and nodded. “That doesn’t ease your worries, does it?”

He shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face. “I’m a man born and raised in Flea Bottom. This never entered my mind until your brother offered it to me.”

“He trusts you. I trust you.” He closed his eyes and savored her lips against his. “And remember, I’m going to help you. We’re going to do this together as best we can and that’s all we can promise.” Thunder rumbled again and she looked up, allowing him to examine her features under the dim candlelight. Her eyes were bright with curiosity and he wondered if she was thinking about the storm as he had been. Her hair had dried since their bath, falling to her shoulders in a tangle. Her lean, lithe body was curled close to him. She smelled clean, but still carried the scent of snow and something wild.

He shifted on the bed and tugged her down with him so his lips met hers in a heated kiss. His teeth caught her bottom lip and she gasped. She pushed on his shoulder and he broke the kiss to look down at her and she pushed on his shoulder again until he rolled off her and she directed him to his back.

He caressed her thighs as she straddled his hips. She leaned down and he thought she meant to kiss him but instead she traced his bottom lip with her thumb. “I love you. I hope you don’t doubt that.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“My reluctance for marriage...”

“Arya...stop. I know. I do. I know why.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “I believe that when I ask you, when I really ask you, you’ll say yes and you’ll be my wife. You’re one of the few things in this world I have ever believed in. I won’t have doubts in you now.”

She did kiss him then and brought his hands to her breasts. Her tongue flicked against his top lip and she broke the kiss to moan, giving him the opportunity to lift his head and take her nipple into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and had her pinned beneath him on the bed once more. He trailed his lips along her throat and down to her breasts. His eyes met hers as his teeth scraped over the rosy peek, feeling it harden more beneath his touch.

“It’s been so long since I had a proper taste of you,” he commented.

She bit her bottom lip then smiled. Her hands smoothed over the back of his head before moving to his shoulders and nudging him further down. “Then I insist you have your fill,” she whispered.

His fingers danced over her skin and to her cunt. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as he kissed down her abdomen, feeling her tremble beneath him. This is the intimacy they’d truly been missing since their fight. She shifted beneath him, propping her foot on his shoulder when he settled between her thighs. He teased her with kisses to her inner thighs. “Gendry,” she muttered and his eyes met hers as he spread her open and stroked his tongue over her entrance.

She sat up on her elbows, her breathing labored. Her hips shifted beneath him, trying to direct him, but he refused to comply so quickly. He wanted her nearly mad for him. He turned away and kissed her thigh again and she thumped his back with her foot. “Don’t tease,” she gritted between her teeth.

He moved his fingers over her slit then slid one inside her, feeling her clench around it as he stroked in and out of her. She dropped back to the pillow and her hips moved in time with the strokes. He watched her for a moment, noting how flushed her skin was, how her chest heaved as she breathed, even how her eyes were closed as she moaned out the word “more”.

He added another finger and his tongue sought out her clit and flicked his tongue over it twice before he brought it into his mouth. He alternated between sucking and teasing the tiny nub with his tongue. “Almost,” she gasped, and he could feel her tightening against his fingers and her body stiffened before she shook beneath him as she tumbled over the edge. He stroked his fingers a few more times before removing them and replaced them with his tongue, tasting her release.

She tugged on his wrist and he looked up at her to see her crook her finger at him, beckoning him up to her. He gave her clit one last lick, causing her to gasp before he crawled on top of her. She brought his mouth to hers and he groaned at the feel of her hands on his cock. “Inside me, now.”

“As m’lady commands,” he whispered.


	13. Chapter 13

Arya XIII

Chapter Summary

Arya and Gendry are settling into being Lady and Lord of a keep, however, newcomers force them to make hard decisions. But as always, they're doing it side by side.

ARYA

The exterior courtyard was empty, not that she was really expecting people to be in it. She found that a lot of Storm’s End’s occupants didn’t trust the weather, and tended to stay close, if not inside the castle. Their second day there, they’d found several open-air pavilions on different levels of the keep. They were designed in such a way that the rain wouldn't get more than a foot inside the room. But on sunny days, they were filled with light, the rays filtering through colored glass to decorate the room in various patterns.

The great hall had been filled with tables that day and the people had slowly filtered into the room to greet the new lord and his lady. For more than one occupant inside the keep, seeing Gendry in the Baratheon colors, sitting at the head table, had been like having a young Robert in attendance. But she knew that his appearance and strength would be the only ways that Gendry would ever resemble his father.

She gripped the hilt of her sword a bit tighter as she walked to the outer wall, Rhys walking with her on orders of Gendry. He feared them getting caught in an ambush. She found Harry standing nearby and he gave her a pleasant smile as she approached. On the other side of the wall, she saw Gendry standing on the cliff where he said he’d be. Still wary of being overheard, they met there each day to discuss any issues they didn’t want to be overheard by someone in the keep. On days where the storms raged outside, Harry, Rhys, and Peeta would sweep the room and stand at the door to keep anyone from listening.

Her lover stood with his back to her as he stared at the ground, his arms folded over his chest. Something was bothering him, that was clear to see. She put a hand on his shoulder and he looked over at her as she came to stand beside him. He smiled, but she could still see worry etched around his eyes. “I’ve seen that look before. What’s happened?”

He sighed and took her hands in his. “Someone has been in our room.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed in question, her hackles raised to think of someone snooping around in their private space.

“Exactly what I said. I felt like someone was moving things, not much, but enough that I noticed because I have a strange thing about where I put things. But they’ve been shifted over a few inches.”

“Looking for something?” she asked.

“Or to let us know that they can get to us if they want.”

“For how long?”

“A few days.”

She took a deep breath. “And you’re just now telling me?” She huffed. She thought on it, wondering if she could sneak around the castle unnoticed. But then, a thought occurred to her. “We had a new group come through a few days ago. Mostly farmers, though, remember?”

He nodded. “Families and older people looking for refuge. Why would they do this?”

“Cersei has spies everywhere. I wouldn’t put it past her to have sent someone. Then again it could be someone already here. Only a few people know you and I actually share a room. Do you think it was Ser Farring?”

Gendry shook his head. “My instincts say no. They’re not as reliable as yours, but I do feel like he really is here to serve House Baratheon.” He tilted his head and sighed. “Do you think he’s out to hurt us?”

She shook her head and frowned. “No. He’s had opportunities to harm both of us.” She released his hands and folded her arms over her chest. “What exactly are they moving?”

His dark look turned darker. “My clothes. My boots. Put one of my daggers into the side table.”

Arya huffed out a breath. “Intimate things. And only yours.”

“As you said, it’s a threat,” his voice was low.

She shook her head. “We both knew it was too good to be true. Everything was moving along too smoothly.”

He nodded. “I got this, as well,” he said, holding up a scroll.

She took it from him and read it. She looked up at him and frowned. “You know what it says?”

He nodded. “Read it myself,” he said with a bit of a smile. She smiled back at him, but it vanished in wake of the news it carried. “Attacked at Harrenhal.”

Gendry showed her the other one. “And this one from your sister.

“Why did she send the raven to you?”

“Because Bran told her to,” he answered. “It’s all in the letter.”

Her eyebrows rose and she smirked as she faced him. “My brother, my all-seeing brother is in love. And he executed someone. That is...bizarre to me.” Her eyes widened suddenly. “Bran. We can ask him who’s sneaking into our room.”

“Could take a week to get a response,” he said but nodded. “Do you want to send the raven?”

She nodded. “Yes. I was told before I came out here that Brienne’s father should be here tomorrow.”

“What do you know about him?”

“I know that he taught Brienne to fight with a sword and she loves him. That’s good enough for me,” she answered softly.

He stepped forward and ran his hands over her arms before resting them on her shoulders. “Your father did the same for you.”

She sighed. “He did. I think he still thought I would marry a Lord and fill his keep with babies.”

“I don’t think I would mind that as long as I was the lord, the babies were mine, and we taught them how to fight.”

Arya rested her head against his shoulder and groaned. “I don’t want to think about children yet.”

“I can’t say I disagree with that. Too much is still happening for me to even feel remotely safe about it.”

She lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his lips. “That’s why you’re the one I want. You understand me better than anyone.”

“You’re m’lady. I’d be a poor lover if I didn’t know you.”

She grinned. “And we both know how you excel at pleasing me.”

“I make it my goal, Arry, to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied. Can’t have you finding some knight you like better.”

“Never happen. I’d be a better fighter than he is and his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it,” she whispered before she leaned up on her toes and kissed him.

“After supper, let's retire to our rooms and get more familiar with one another,” he said as he pulled her against him.

“After supper? You’re willing to wait that long?”

He grinned. “I admit, the thought of fucking you on the high table does get my blood flowing.” She laughed as she let him run his hands along her body. “I don’t think some of the others would like that very much though.”

She tilted her head. “But if it’s what the Lord of Storm’s End demands—“

“Don’t fucking tempt me, Arya,” he growled as his mouth caught hers in a heated kiss. They lingered there together, and she gripped his jerkin in her hands.

She pulled away and smiled at him. “You smell like fire. Have you been in the forge?”

He nodded. “Wanted to clear my head and think after finding someone had been in our room. Making weapons and armor helps me do that.”

She nodded and grinned. “We’ll certainly be the best-armored army in the kingdom.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” he said with a smirk. He turned toward the castle and they began walking. “I will let you know that one of the other lords asked when you and I were getting married.”

“What did you say?”

He held his arm out to her. “I told him that things in the kingdom needed to settle down, we didn’t know if our banner would be called to assist the two Targaryen’s marching for the throne.”

“That’s a rather smart political answer.”

“You’ll have to thank Ser Farring. He gave me that as a reason. I think he likes you.”

“I think he’s afraid of me.”

“Those are not mutually exclusive. I like you and I’m also afraid of you,” he joked.

“You’re not really afraid of me, are you?”

He smiled over at her and shook his head. “Not anymore.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “I’ll go send the raven to Bran. You go greet your people,” she looked to the east, out over the water and saw thick dark clouds forming. “Storm’s moving in.”

“I’m glad we got some time to be together out here, then,” he said as he took a deep breath. “The castle is sometimes too musty.”

“Only after days of rain.”

“I like the storms, though. The way they sound against the castle. Almost like music,” she mused.

“I like fucking during them.”

“Why, Lord Gendry, what would the others think to hear you say such things?” she teased.

“They'd probably agree,” he laughed. He placed a kiss on the back of her hands. “Off to your raven, m’lady.”

She gave a mock curtsey. “My Lord.”

*~*

_Bran,_

_How are things in Winterfell? I hear that not only have you executed someone (can I say how impressed I am that you swung the sword, just like Father always said) but that you’re in love? Who is she? Would I like her more or would Sansa? You know there is a difference. Either way, I’m happy for you and I hope it works out for the best._

_How is Sansa? She only mentioned him once in her letter, so am I to assume that she’s getting over it or just leaving him out because it could be a danger. I hope it’s a combination of the two. She can do better. We all know it. However, I’m never going to be the person to tell someone they can’t or don’t need to do something. People look at me and think I should be a proper lady, yet, I’ll never be happy being only that. I rather like my life as it is, helping train our soldiers, helping Gendry with matters regarding the people that live in this keep. I never thought I would care, but it turns out I do. Funny life, isn’t it?_

_I’ve rambled enough and will come to the true reason I’m writing to you, which I feel you probably already know. Someone is sneaking into our room, and we need to know who. Are they a threat to us? What is their purpose? Is it a group we should be worried about? I know you will tell me all I need to know to help keep us safe._

_I love you and miss Winterfell. Give my love to Sansa and my regards to Brienne, Tormund, and Podrick. Stay safe._

_Lady Arya Stark Lady of Winterfell_

She started to use her Stark seal, but changed at the last minute, heating the wax and using the Baratheon one instead. She carried it to the Maester and watched as he tied it to the raven and sent it away. “My Lady, if I might have a word.”

She nodded and he closed the door behind her. “There was a group that came in a few days ago, I’m sure you have seen them.” At her nod, he continued. “A few of them have been causing problems for some of the women in the castle. I’ve had to stitch up two chambermaids. I would have told Lord Gendry, but I saw you first...”

“Do you know which men?”

“I do not. But I’m sure Natasha and Mary could tell you.” She gave him another nod. “They’re afraid to handle those rooms.”

Arya blinked a few times and tilted her head. “Was it just stitches?”

He lowered his head and looked at the table in front of him. Arya’s hand on her sword hilt tightened. “I trust you gave them moon tea?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“I’d like to see Natasha and Mary when supper is over. This sort of treatment of anyone will not be tolerated.”

“Of course, My Lady. I am glad I told you.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said before she turned and stormed from the room. She wondered what Gendry would do. How would he handle it? Her instinct was to kill the men, without question. Would Gendry’s be the same? She knows how he felt about what her sister endured, but would he act differently since it was his keep and his people? She felt she knew his heart, and he wouldn’t tolerate for that to happen within his keep, but she wanted to be sure.

*~*

Arya barely ate as she thought about the news the Maester has given her. She watched as a few of the men grabbed at the maids and slammed her knife on the table.

Gendry turned from his conversation with Ser Farring and looked at her hand then followed her gaze to the people. One of the men pulled one of the servants into his lap even as she struggled. “Ser Farring, see that those men understand that their behavior will not be tolerated.”

Ser Farring stood and called over a few of the guards. Arya looked at Gendry, anger boiling in her stomach. “You alright?” he asked.

“We’re going to have two visitors after dinner.”

“Who? Why?”

She put a hand on his and looked him in the eye. “I need you to temper your reaction. We’re having a casual conversation, alright?”

He nodded and gave her a slight smile, though she could see the strain behind his eyes. “Alright. Tell me.”

“The Maester told me two of the maids were raped. He’s bandaged them up and gave them moon tea, but it still happened.”

She noticed the muscle in his jaw clench and could feel his fingers tighten around hers. “Who did it?”

“We’re going to talk to Mary and Natasha and find out,” she said with a smile as she brushed her hand along his arm. “And when we do, we’ll handle it together.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “As m’lady commands.”

*~*

After dinner, she was using the whetstone on Needle as Gendry stood by the fire, examining the antlers. “I don’t remember Winterfell being covered in Direwolves to this extent.”

She chuckled and continued sharpening the blade. “All the furs and sigils didn’t have a lasting effect?”

Gendry glanced at her over his shoulder. “Now that you mention it, I think I was usually more consumed with you than actually what the room looked like.”

“Oh? Has your interest waned?” she teased.

He turned to face her and smirked. “No. And don’t give me that look. We’ve got serious business to discuss.”

She wiped down the blade of her sword before she put it back into its scabbard. “You’re right.” She stood and put her sword belt back on just as a knock at the door sounded. “Come in,” he called and the Maester, Ser Farring, and the two girls entered the room. She watched as Peeta closed the door behind them. “I want you to know that My Lady and I take this matter seriously.”

Both women kept their heads lowered and she looked to Ser Farring. “Perhaps, Ser Farring, you could wait outside the door.”

He looked at the two women and gave Arya a nod. She ushered the women to sit, which they did. The Maester stood beside the door. “Mary, Natasha, Lord Gendry and I heard what happened, but we need you to tell us who it was.”

Natasha kept her head lowered as she glanced at the two of them and then back at the Maester. Mary lifted her head and heaved a sigh. “It was some of the men that came in with the farmers. I heard em say they was sellswords.”

“Them?” Gendry asked. “More than one?”

Mary lowered her head again and looked at Natasha. “Go ahead,” the Maester urged.

“Three m’lord,” Mary answered.

“When did this happen?”

“First night they was here. We told the other girls not to tend their rooms after. Clarence has been doin’ it, and they broke his nose cause he wouldn’t let us come do it.”

Gendry looked at Arya and knew he was asking her to make sure. “Were you badly hurt? Cuts? Bruises?”

Mary lowered her chin to her chest and the Maester cleared his throat. “Burned,” she whispered. She turned her back to them and lifted her hair to show a burn mark hidden beneath a bandage.

“What rooms are they staying in?” Gendry asked.

Mary frowned. “Fourth floor, the last three rooms on the right.”

Gendry cleared his throat and called, “Ser Farring.” The Knight opened the door and Gendry picked up his hammer. “Take some of the guard and the Maester and bring the men staying in those rooms to the Hall.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Natasha and Mary, we’ll ask that you come with us. No one will touch you, but I want to make sure we have the correct men.”

Peeta and Harry walked in front and back respectively as Gendry and Arya walked side by side. “No deception?”

Arya shook her head. “None. We’re going to kill them, right?”

“That’s my plan. Will be interesting to see if they beg for their lives.”

“You going to use your hammer?”

“I might use my bare hands. I want this to send a message that this will not be tolerated. And the penalty will be death.”

Arya and Gendry entered the hall, neither taking their seats at the table, instead, they both stood in front of it as Mary and Natasha stood to the side flanked by Harry and Peeta. The doors opened with Ser Farring leading the way and three men, one of which had been the man harassing the serving girl at dinner. Arya’s hand tightened on the hilt of her sword and glared at the men in front of her.

Ser Farring stood off to Gendry’s left as the men were held in place by some of the guards. “This how you treat guests in your castle? Drag me outta bed in the middle of the night.”

She could feel Gendry tense beside her but his tone was even, smooth. “You find my hospitality lacking?”

“Yeah. Especially where your women are concerned.”

Gendry glanced at Arya and took a deep breath. “What are your names?”

“You gonna tell us why we’re here?”

Gendry nodded. “It seems that you’ve been taking advantage of my keeps’ hospitality. Abusing it. Raping it. Those are things I don’t tolerate.”

“So this is a trial?” the man questioned and looked at his compatriots. “Why? Cause we had a bit of fun with our chambermaids? They ain’t even doing their job no more. Sides...that’s the price of being a chambermaid.”

Gendry shook his head but Arya spoke. “The price of being born into a certain station is never to be raped.”

“What would a highborn lady know about it? Especially one that’s warming her lord’s bed every night.”

Arya tilted her head. “Your names.”

“Godfrey.”

“Lancen,” the mouthy one said.

“Darren.”

She looked at Mary and Natasha. “Ladies, are these the men who attacked you?”

Mary nodded and Natasha let out a soft ‘yes’. Gendry spoke to the men. “Anything to say?”

Lancen spoke. “I demand trial by combat.”

Gendry’s mouth twitched. “And if you win?”

“My friends and I go free.”

“And if you lose, your heads will be mounted on the walls?” Gendry asked as he lifted his hammer.

Lancen nodded. “If. And I use a sword. Seems I should fight someone with a sword.”

“My Lord, I volunteer to fight for you,” Ser Farring said, but Lancen spoke again.

“No. The Lady carries a sword.”

Gendry looked at Arya and then Ser Farring. The older man almost smiled at her. “You want to fight me?”

“You’ve helped accuse us. You can fight for your accusation.”

Gendry turned to Arya, his eyes bright. “You don’t have to,” he whispered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. She could see the warmth in his eyes and they both knew these three men would be dead very soon.

“I can do this,” she responded. The other men backed up as Lancen was given a sword. He spun it in his hands a few times and she heard Gendry sigh.

Lancen lunged at her and she sidestepped him, then slapped his back with her sword. He turned and raised it to fight against her, but one block overhead and she stuck Needle straight through his gut. He stared at her in shock, bringing the sword down to slash at her, only for her to twirl to her left and drive it in through his side. He fell to his knees and she stuck him through his neck, the sound of him gargling blood filling the room. Arya moved back to stand beside Gendry as Lancen fell to the ground, dead. The other two men were brought before Arya and Gendry again, both staring at the bloody, dead body of their compatriot. “Mercy!” Godfrey called. “Send us to the Wall.”

Gendry shook his head. “There is no Wall. The dead are gone, the Wildlings are part of this kingdom. Hurting those that are weaker than you will never be tolerated in this keep or this kingdom. Godfrey, Darren, you have been found guilty of the crimes of rape and torture. Unless either of you would like to have a chance at trial by combat?”

Both men hung their heads. “How would you like them executed, My Lord?” Ser Ferring asked.

He looked at Arya. “How do they handle rapists in the North?”

“Cut their balls off. Then sent them to the Wall.”

Gendry quirked an eyebrow. “That idea has some potential. Only there is no Wall.”

Ser Farring cleared his throat. “We have a gallows, My Lord.”

“Do we have cells?”

“We do, My Lord.”

He looked at Arya. “Put them in there until we decide how they’ll die.”

“Yes, My Lord,” he said and the two men were snatched from the ground and led out of the room. Arya turned to the two women. “If anyone does this again, come to me.”

Both women bowed and left the room, the Maester looking over the dead man on the floor. “This one thought too much of himself.”

“Or too little of My Lady. Maester, should you hear of people treating those inside the keep poorly, I want you to tell me. I’ll not have anyone being treated like they were.”

“What do you want us to do with his body?”

“Pitch him over the cliff,” Arya said softly. “Let the ocean handle him.”

“And the other two?”

Gendry leaned against the table and rested his hands on his hammer. “Suggestions, Maester?”

“Traitors are hung. Deserters are beheaded. Rapists have been sent to the Wall in the past. I don’t know the right answer. Perhaps gelding them and leaving them alive is the right one.”

“They would still be able to hurt people,” Arya said as she leaned against the table. “They’re sellswords. Gelding them and turning them loose means they can still make a living. They shouldn’t be allowed to prosper on the suffering of others.” She tilted her head as she looked at the dead man on the ground. “My sister fed her rapist to dogs.”

“A quick death would seem to be the right answer, My Lady.”

“Why? Do you think what happened to Natasha and Mary was quick?” she snapped at the maester. “You came to me because you wanted resolution for them.”

“I meant no offense.”

“Maester, thank you for bringing this matter to us. We will have an answer in the morning.”

“Of course, My Lord.”

The maester left the hall and a few of the guards followed with Lancen’s dead body. Gendry looked at her and took her hand in his. “Well fought, m’lady.”

She turned to him and frowned. “With Lancen or the Maester?”

He gave her a soft smile. “Both.” He sighed. “Let’s go to our room and discuss how to handle the other two.”

*~*

Arya sat along the rocky edge of the bath, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She felt Gendry’s hands on her bare shoulders and she leaned her head against him. “Talk to me,” he said as he sat beside her and turned to put his legs into the bath.

“Started thinking about Sansa,” she said softly, confessing to Gendry, her love, about the sister with whom she’d recently found common ground. “What I would have done to Ramsay...”

He looked over at her and sighed. “Feeding him to his own dogs seems appropriate.”

She sighed. “I feel guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”

Arya looked at him. “I knew Sansa was married to Ramsay and living in Winterfell. And I didn’t go home to help her. I went home because I heard Jon was there and had taken it back.”

Gendry was silent for a moment and frowned. “Did you know Ramsay was doing that to her?”

“I knew she was married to a man whose father betrayed my family. That made him an enemy. After I had been there a few weeks, Sansa didn’t tell me all of it, but I knew enough that she truly suffered horrific things because of Ramsay. And I might have been able to stop it.”

“ Might . What if you had gotten there and she was already gone? You can ask yourself these questions and make yourself crazy...but you can’t change the past. You and Sansa left off at a place where you were friendly with one another.” She scoffed and he nudged her with his elbow. “Weren’t you the first one she told about her feelings for Jaime? She trusted you with that. She trusts you with her life.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “If Sansa doesn’t hold you up for contempt, then you shouldn’t do that to yourself.”

She leaned against him. “Just seeing those girls like that...it hurt me thinking that could have been how Sansa was.”

“You love your sister,” he said softly. “And you worry for her. Perhaps, once Jon and Daenerys reach King’s Landing and unseat Cersei, you could go visit her in Winterfell.”

She frowned. “I wouldn’t go without you,” she whispered. “I know we were joking around earlier this afternoon, but how soon would you get married if...if that’s what I wanted?”

He was quiet for a moment and she nudged him. “I’m trying to think if you’re looking for another answer besides right now .”

“So, if I said to you let’s go to the sept, right now, and have them marry us?”

“I’d help you get dressed and we’d go.”

“It’s that simple for you, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “You’re my future. That’s simple to me.”

“I don’t want to get married right now,” she answered quickly. “But...I was thinking that once Jon and Daenerys take King’s Landing, then we could get married.”

He tilted his head at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you want me to wait and ask you or do you want me to ask you now?”

She sighed and moved into the water and tugged on his hand to pull him with her. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love too.”

*~*

The rain had stopped and the hall had been cleared. The soldiers dragged the two men out of their cells and to the gallows. Several others gathering to see their new Lord in action. The two men were strung up from the gallows and Arya stood with the crowd, flanked by Ser Farring and Peeta. Mary and Natasha stood to the left of Ser Farring with the Maester close.

“The men before you have been accused and have admitted to rape and torture of two of our citizens. Everyone who lives within these walls should feel safe and those who violate their safety will be met with justice.” Gendry turned to the two men and said something to each, both of them speaking to him softly. Ser Farring had given Gendry his sword to use and with a swift strike, the rope holding the barrels in place jerked away and the two men swung in the air. As Gendry walked down from the gallows, he stopped and spoke with the Maester who nodded. The people went back to their lives even as the two lifeless men kept swinging.

Arya felt as if she was being watched, but as she looked around, she didn’t see anyone looking at her. It felt familiar and malicious all at once, and when Gendry approached and touched her arm, she startled. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“I don’t know. I’ve got a strange feeling, Gendry. That we’ve got other problems.”

“Meaning?”

“I feel like someone is watching me...but almost like it’s a presence I know.”

“Faceless man?”

Arya looked up at him then, concern stretching through to her very core. “We better hope not,” she whispered.

The two men were cut from the gallows and their bodies carried away. Harry then approached them. “My Lord, Lord Selwyn of Tarth has been spotted on the horizon.”

He nodded. “Thank you. Make sure food has been prepared and I want the full guard out here to greet our honored guests.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Gendry held out his arm to Arya as Ser Farring walked on his other side. “How do I greet him?”

“Lord Selwyn,” Ser Farring said with a smile. “He’s a very amenable man.”

“We know his daughter, Brienne, well. One of the finest fighters I’ve ever seen,” Arya said with a smile.

Riders began to file into the walls of the keep and Lord Selwyn stepped forward. It amazed Arya how much Brienne actually looked like her father. She had his white blonde hair, his bright blue eyes, and it was obvious her size came from him as well.

“Lord Selwyn.”

“Lord Gendry. Lady Arya. I’ve heard a great deal about you both from my daughter in her letters. She speaks very highly of you.”

Arya smiled. “Lord Selwyn, coming from Brienne, I can not imagine a higher honor.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance as the wind picked up. Gendry glanced up. “We should take shelter in the hall. We’ve had lunch prepared for you and your men.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Arya took a deep breath as she and Gendry led the way, wondering what this visit would hold.

Chapter End Notes

Writing badass Arya is one of my favorite things. But then, I love that she shows her real, true self to Gendry. She's like an M&M when it comes to the world. Hard candy coating to the world, but mush to Gendry.

Gendry XIII

Chapter Summary

Arya gets a response from Bran about the person sneaking into their room and it's a blast from the past. Gendry gets a warning and bad things come to Storm's End.

GENDRY

Lord Selwyn’s men filled in some of the tables as the townsfolk sat at the rest. As for the Lord, he sat to Gendry's left with Arya on his right. “My daughter is the sworn sword of your lady sister. Does she seem to like her place at her side?” he asked Arya.

His love nodded and swallowed the bite in her mouth. “She does. Sansa and Brienne get along well, confidants. When we left Winterfell, Brienne was teaching Sansa how to defend herself using a sword. In my opinion, Sansa could ask for no better teacher.”

There was a look of pride around the man’s eyes as he looked at his plate. However, the smile drifted away and a more stern expression took over. “And what’s this I hear about my daughter has found a man that loves her. She seemed hesitant in her letters to say much about him.”

Gendry smirked and looked at Arya. He had to wonder what the lord would think of his daughter being in love with a Wildling. Granted, Tormund was a skilled warrior and adored Brienne, not only for her skill in battle but he also seemed to see the something deeper that lay inside. He knew all too well how people latched onto titles though. Wildlings were little more than scum in their world, even if they did fight nearly to extinction to protect everyone south of them.

“I can tell you, he is a fierce warrior and is loyal to your daughter,” Arya said diplomatically.

“He’s respectful?” Lord Selwyn questioned. Gendry would hate to think of what would become of Tormund if he hadn’t been.

Arya nodded and smiled. “He better be or Brienne would put him in the dirt.”

Gendry gave Arya a smile and a nod. Tormund challenged her, but she seemed to like it, most of the time. Lord Selwyn looked almost at peace with that answer. “She’s a special woman. It would require a special man to appreciate her. Is he a Lord? A knight?”

Gendry took a sip of his wine and folded his hands in his lap. “He’s the leader of one of Jon’s armies, left in the North to protect his brother and sister. And if the King trusts him...”

Lord Selwyn looked at them both with suspicion. “I suppose I’ll have to pay my daughter a visit in Winterfell. I expect this man will ask for her hand.”

He thought about that for a moment, wondering what the Wildlings did for marriage ceremonies. And as far as he knew about the lady, she worshipped the Seven. He hoped if they did have a ceremony he’d be allowed to watch.

“How have things been in your land, My Lord?” Gendry asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Brienne as he didn’t want to betray her trust.

*~*

He was going out to meet Arya in their usual spot when the Maester stopped him. “My Lord. A raven came for your lady but I was told she was in the training yard.” He took the raven from him and watched him walk away. The Stark seal stood proudly on the scroll and hope swell in his chest. Maybe this would be the information they needed about who was sneaking into their room and why.

He arrived before Arya, taking a moment to inhale the scent of fresh rain, and even though there was a breeze, the humidity in the air nearly made his cloak and gambeson unbearable to wear. He felt a tap on his shoulder, sensing it was her without looking. He held up the scroll for her. She had sent the letter to her brother, he didn’t want to intrude on anything private that might have come in reply.

He turned to watch her read it, waiting for a change in her expression. It didn't take long, her eyes harden, her fingers tense against the parchment. “What does it say?”

She looked up at him, her mouth in a tight line. “Melisandre.”

Gendry took a deep breath and almost stepped away from her. “She’s here?”

“Bran says that her real form isn’t the one we know. It's a crone. He said you helped her pick something up in the yard. That she has a magic necklace that changes her appearance.”

Gendry bent over and put his hands on his knees, trying to take a deep breath, feeling anger and even a bit of fear coursing through his veins. He probably could have handled anything or anyone other than her. “Why? Why is she invading our room?”

She looked up at him then and sighed. “He doesn’t know why. She doesn’t speak to anyone so he doesn’t know her purpose, but knows she’s watching us constantly and seems to have a dislike for me.” Arya rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine why?”

He stood and folded his arms over his chest. “What do we do?”

“I kill her. She’s on my list.”

She was on Arya’s list because of him. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms for a fierce kiss. He cupped her face and she gripped his wrists as she let him plunder her mouth. He broke away, pressing his forehead against hers. “I want to know why she’s here,” he said softly. “I want an answer to that before you kill her.”

She nodded. “We might have to be careful about this one. It’s one thing to kill men who raped and tortured two of our citizens. It will be hard to explain why we killed an old woman.” Gendry rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he stared at her. She cupped his face in her hands and he leaned into it. “Are you alright?”

He heaved a sigh and shook his head. “No.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he embraced her as well. “You have me. I’m always beside you. I’ll fight for you just as you would for me.”

*~*

Gendry was seated in the small room that had been designated as a study. He was meant to be going over some correspondence after listening to the complaints of the common people that morning. Leaks in some of their rooms, families being displaced in other parts of Storm’s End, but his mind kept going back to Melisandre and her possible reasons for being here, of all places. Surely, she had to know he wouldn’t willingly give her safe quarter.

A door to his left opened and he turned his head slowly to see the woman of his thoughts entering the room, her bright, unnaturally red hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder. Her dress, in nearly the same shade, cut down to her sternum.

He rose from his seat and gripped the hilt of his hammer, uneasiness gripping him. He was completely alone, even his guards were gone.

“You’ve been looking for me, My Lord ?”

“You’re either incredibly brave or you don’t value your own life. Which is it?” he asked, finally.

“I don’t know that it’s either of those. I simply know where I’m supposed to be and when.”

He watched her as she looked around the room. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Why are you here?”

“I’m meant to be here, Lord Baratheon.”

“This is my keep. You couldn’t possibly think that I would want you here.”

She looked down at her hands and sighed. “I served your uncle, faithfully, up until his death. I did horrible things in the name of finding the right king. And I did that. I found Jon Snow. I raised him from the dead when my faith was in shambles. I went to Volantis, to my home, trying to find reason after I brought ice and fire together.” She stared into the flames of one of the braziers. “I found answers. Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen beat back the dead and are marching to take their rightful place. A place you could take...”

“I don’t want to be king. I had to be talked into this.”

“Because you still see yourself as a bastard.” Gendry looked down at the table and the stack of parchments he was reading over. “You know, you’re not that much different from Jon Snow, in that respect. He never felt like he deserved to have the good things that were happening to him. Before his battle with Ramsay, he asked me not to bring him back if he fell again. I couldn’t make such a promise.” She turned her eyes from the flame. “The throne will be his. This is yours.” He felt like ice swept through his veins as her eyes met his. “You have questions for me.”

“Why have you been sneaking into our room?”

“I wanted you to know I was here.”

She stepped around the table and he eyed her sharply. “Why?”

“To offer my services. Not to make you king, but to help root out your enemies, which, make no mistake, you have enemies in these very walls.”

“Why should I believe you? You were going to kill me.”

She nodded. “I was. Davos kept me from doing that. Some of it was Stannis, I believe. But I didn’t kill you. You’re still here and now you’re the Lord of your father’s house. And there is someone who does not want you to succeed.”

“Who?” he asked softly and she moved closer.

She tilted her head. “Someone who takes umbrage with Robert’s bastard taking the seat of House Baratheon.”

“Tell me who.”

“Will you allow me to live, even if she wants to kill me?”

Arya . He shook his head. “What she does to you isn’t my concern. She put you on her list a long time ago. I’ve kept her from taking one life. I won’t do it again.”

“Even if the information I have is valuable?”

He shook his head. “No. You bought me. Got me to trust you. Seduced me. And all that time you were planning to take my life. I don’t forget. Neither does she.”

She tilted her head and shook it. “You weren’t fighting me when I was seducing you. You kissed me. You touched me. You liked it. Perhaps that’s your real problem. I wasn’t her and that made you feel guilty.”

The sound of her voice, so sure, made his skin crawl. His thoughts had been on Arya, especially once he’d realized he’d been betrayed. The look of fear and desperation in her eyes as he was carted away, how she had pleaded, begged, even fought to try and keep him. Guilt did weigh on him and perhaps it was that he hadn’t fought her off, hadn’t denied her. He looked away and frowned. “Tell me who’s the threat.”

“She’s with your lady, now. Don’t let her drink the tea,” she said as she glided out of the room.

He rushed past her, hammer in hand, taking the stairs two at a time and came to their room. He pushed open the door and found Arya wiping down Needle, her eyes wide at his sudden intrusion.

She was on her feet in an instant. “What is it?”

He leaned his hammer against the wall beside the door and grasped her shoulders in his hands. “Have you had tea?” he asked softly, afraid if the answer was yes that his world would end.

She shook her head, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “No. Mary went to get it. Why?”

He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and felt his heart beat again. “Don’t drink it. Follow my lead,” he said softly as he heard feet approaching. He placed a kiss on her lips as the door was pushed opened a bit more.

Mary entered the room, holding a tray with a kettle and teacup, a smile on her face. It fell when she saw Gendry was in the room. Mary? She’s the one trying to hurt us? After we killed the men that hurt her? She moved quickly to the table and set the tray down. “My Lord,” she said with a bow of her head and began to pour the tea into the cup.

He bowed his head as well and glanced at Arya. “Mary why don’t you stay and have a cup of tea,” he said softly, gesturing to the empty chair beside the fire as he took his place on the sofa.

“Oh, I only brought one cup,” she said, never taking her eyes from the tray.

Arya moved quickly to the other side of the room. “That’s simple enough. I have another,” she said as she joined Mary, a smile on her face. But Gendry could see it wasn’t real. “Come, have tea with me.”

Mary shook her head. “It’s really not my place,” she said. “You’re the Lord and Lady of the keep. It wouldn’t be proper.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Mary, do you think the two of us care much for propriety?”

She was silent for a moment, her face falling as she shook her head. “I don’t think there’s enough for me.”

Gendry was on his feet and moving toward the door to block her possible escape. “Mary,” Arya said softly. “Drink the tea.”

“My Lady, I’m not thirsty...”

“I didn’t say you were,” she said. “Drink the tea or tell me what’s in it.”

“It’s your normal moon tea, My Lady.”

A look came across Arya’s face and Gendry felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. “ My Lady ?” Both Gendry and Mary tilted their heads as they stared at her. “Commoners say m’lady. Even Gendry slips into it every now and then. But you aren’t common, are you?”

Mary straightened. “The kingdom has gone through many changes lately, My Lady.”

“Who are you?”

She suddenly looked up at Arya and whispered, “No one.”

Gendry saw the look of shock on Arya’s face and knew it was a faceless man. He used the dagger at his side and attempted to stab her in the back, only for her to turn and deflect him, sending him against the wall, then kicked Arya in the stomach and sent her flying backward into the chair. But Arya was on her feet quickly, sword in hand and ran after the girl. Gendry followed, able to keep up even with the weight of his hammer in hand. They reached the great hall, the girl stopped in the middle, and Gendry barely ducked her blade. Arya was now fighting against her, Gendry joining in with a swing of his hammer at her legs which she jumped over.

Arya managed to hook her leg in mid-air and sent her to her back. She rolled out of the way of Arya’s sword, but not Gendry’s boot which gave Arya enough time to slit her throat. As they both sat panting, she rolled the woman over and removed the face to reveal that of a Jaqen H'ghar. “What’s happening?” Arya questioned, looking down at the face that Gendry remembered from years before.

Gendry grunted as a blinding pain split his side and he looked back to see Natasha standing over him, bloody knife in hand. She stabbed him two more times and he crumbled to the ground as Arya’s scream of, “No!” filled the room.

*~*

His mouth felt dry, like the air in Flea Bottom during the hot days of the summer, or working in the forge. His left side hurt and he groaned as he took too deep a breath and his lung felt like it would explode. A hand took his as a wet cloth brushed over his forehead. “Don’t die,” she chanted. He wanted to tell her he was fine, except for the pain, but he couldn’t get the words to form. He was rolled to his side and a sound left his lips.

His body convulsed as something was poured into what felt like holes in his back. It burned all through his veins, his blood on fire. The hand that had been holding his tightened.

“The poison has stopped moving, My Lady.” The voice sounded so far away, and try as he might, he couldn’t open his eyes or speak, but the sting of a needle piercing his skin caused another involuntary grunt from him. He realized he was being stitched up. The swipe of a hand came over his face, the touch soft, comforting. It was a reassuring presence and he could feel the calm of sleep pulling him into its clutches.

*~*

He stood staring at the Baratheon sigil, golden light shone through it, illuminating the floor of the great hall.

“You became more than a sacrificial lamb, I see.” He turned at the voice and found Stannis Baratheon.

“You’re dead. Brienne killed you.”

“She did. Killed me for what I did to him,” he said as he nodded over his shoulder. A younger man, wearing a crown of what looked to be antlers atop his head. “Remember that loyalty to your family is as important as any ambition.”

“I never had much ambition,” Gendry remarked.

“He’s like me, in that way,” another voice sounded this time from behind him. A large man with a thick black beard and clear blue eyes stepped forward. “That, and he’s strong, and has fallen in love with a Stark girl. His turned out to be more faithful than mine.”

“You’re...my father.”

Robert nodded and tilted his head. “Not what you expected?”

He shook his head. “Actually, from all the stories, you’re exactly what I expected.” He looked to the man with the crown. “You’re Renly.”

“I am. Shame we never actually got to meet. King’s Landing wasn’t always that friendly.”

“You always were more worried about making friends,” Stannis remarked.

“I was. And one of my friends ended your life. Loyalty. You forgot that, even to your kin.”

Robert stepped forward and took a deep breath, eyes narrowed. “You’re allowing the Targaryen’s to take the throne?”

He nodded and tilted his head. “Your rebellion was all built on a lie. Did you know Lyanna didn’t love you? Or were you just unable to cope with her leaving you?”

Robert got into his face. “How would you cope? How would you handle your precious Arya leaving you? She almost did once. What did you do? Did you fight for her?”

He shook his head. “If she wanted to go, she could go. I wouldn’t be the type of man who would force her to do something she didn’t want. I wouldn’t make her stay with me! That’s what love is!”

“You lecture me about love?” Robert roared.

“I do. How many bastards did you have? Do you even know? Or care? You fucked women and didn’t give a shit about what happened to us! You let us grow up thinking that we were nothing! That we meant nothing!” He huffed out a breath and shook his head. “Davos has been more of a father to me than you ever were in my dreams. I will never be like you.”

He looked at the three men standing around him. “I’ll never be like any of you. Grasping for power, not because it’s what’s best for the people, but because it was what was best for you.” He looked at Stannis. “You burned your own daughter at the stake. That shouldn’t surprise me considering you killed your brother for a throne that never belonged to you.”

“You throw your lot in with the Targaryens?” Robert spat.

“Behind Jon? Absolutely! He’s more of a king than you ever could’ve been because he fucking cares! Daenerys, too. You never did. You wanted to win, to prove a point. Not because it was what would have made everyone’s lives better.” He shook his head. “Meanwhile, my mother and I lived in Flea Bottom where the sewage from the castle traveled down our street.” He turned to Stannis then, pointing a finger at him. “You let me live because of Davos, but I know you were going to kill me. She would have talked you into it. And in the end, you killed your daughter for nothing.” And finally, he turned on Renly. “The people liked you better than Stannis. But that doesn’t mean you were what was right for this kingdom.” He looked around and heaved a sigh. “So, what is this? Am I dead?”

Robert shook his head. “No. You were nearly murdered. But your lover recognized the poison and the Maester saved you. This is just...a journey.”

“For what purpose?”

“To remind you where you came from,” Stannis answered. “You may not like the things we did or didn’t do. You may actually hate all of us. But you’re our legacy.”

He shook his head. “You know, there are times when it’s easier just to be a bastard from Flea Bottom.”

Robert waved his hands and Renly and Stannis were gone, leaving them alone. His father looked around the hall, shaking his head. “I won’t make excuses for what I did. I did all those things. I don’t actually know how many children I had. Cersei saw them all dead. But she didn’t get you. And you can’t let her get you, now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll only survive this poison that you’ve been given if you’re strong enough to fight it off. The Maester did what he could. Your woman is sitting beside your bed. But it’s up to you whether you live through it.”

“I’m not ready to die. I have...I have things to live for.”

Robert was silent for a moment and heaved a sigh. “She truly loves you. You’re lucky. Lyanna, I think, detested me, even though Ned wanted her to love me. Cersei loved the idea of me, but I never had any desire for her. All the countless women through the years, to be honest, meant nothing to me. I knew I had bastards. Legitimizing them was never even a consideration.” Gendry rolled his eyes. “I’m being honest. If I came here and told you my greatest regret was never acknowledging you, you’d know that was a lie. This is the truth. I’m glad you weren’t killed. I’m glad you’ve been put in place to oversee the restoration of House Baratheon. You’re a fighter. You use a Warhammer,” he said with a smile. “Have to admit, when I learned that I was rather proud. And you’ll prove my words to Ned Stark true. He has a daughter, I have a son, and we’ll join our houses.” He turned and started to walk away but stopped and faced Gendry again. “You’ll do what we couldn’t. You’ll take care of the people, you’ll be faithful to the woman you chose, and you’ll be a good Lord. You just have to fight.”

With that, Robert disappeared and Gendry released a deep breath, feeling the pain in his lungs as he did. He wanted to feel like his approval didn’t mean anything to him, but the truth was, it did.

*~*

There was a pain moving down his left arm, it ached all the way to the tips of his fingers. His other hand was being held and it sounded like someone was crying. He almost thought it was Arya, but she didn’t cry. In fact, he didn’t remember ever seeing her cry. It couldn’t be her.

He tried to force his eyes open, to see who it was, but his body wouldn’t do as he wanted. He tried to move his fingers but even that seemed to be a task that he couldn’t accomplish.

The press of soft lips against his made him want to open his eyes even more. He concentrated all of his energy into it only to falter and fail. He was exhausted and against his will, sleep took him once more.

*~*

“Come on,” he encouraged as the little boy took unsteady steps across the solar to him, his arms outstretched toward his father. Arya was standing on the other side, her hands clasped in front of her watching their son take a few more wobbly steps before falling into his arms.

He stood up and swung the boy around, bringing him close for a kiss on his chubby cheek. A great swelling of pride and love filled him at his happy giggle. “Have you been helping Mama with training?”

Arya stepped forward and smiled. “He’s fascinated by the hammers. That might be more your expertise,” she said as she leaned up to kiss him, then settled in the chair beside him, her hand smoothing over the bump of their second child.

He knelt on the floor beside her and pressed a kiss to her belly. “How is our little monster?”

She scoffed. “Don’t call it that? I feel like it can hear you and that’s what’s making this one so difficult.”

Gendry sat back, holding the little boy in his arms as he leaned his head on his shoulder. “Still feeling bad?”

“Wretched. I can’t tell you how many times I was sick today. Makes it very hard to train with people if I’m dashing off to sick up.” She heaved a sigh. “Not to mention embarrassing.”

“Everyone knows you're pregnant.”

“But that shouldn’t mean I can’t do things. This is your fault,” she said as she shook a finger at him.

He chuckled. “I’m sure you think so, but why is this my fault?”

“You practically jumped on me when I told you I’d been given the go-ahead by the maester.”

“Six months, Arya. You forget that whenever we had sex you started feeling labor pains!”

“I didn’t forget. Besides, I wasn’t complaining that you practically pounced on me. I’m complaining that this baby is making me sick.”

He leaned up on his knees, captured the front of her jerkin and pulled her forward for a kiss. “Feel free to complain.” The little boy reached for Arya and she happily took him into her arms and let him snuggle against her chest. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his dark head.  
Gendry put a hand on her swollen belly, letting his thumb trace over it and her hand settled over his.

This was worth living for.

*~*

His head was throbbing, his entire body ached, actually. He slowly opened his eyes and found the braziers all lit, but their fires dying. He felt a weight on his thigh and looked down to see Arya’s head resting on him. Her eyes were closed, but even in the light, he could see the circles beneath her eyes. Her knife was in her hand. It nearly made him chuckle to see her holding the blade, trying to protect him even in sleep.

Her eyes opened slowly and met his. She sat up in the bed quickly, sheathing her knife as she moved on her knees closer to him. “Gendry,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his face. “You’re awake.”

He nodded and tried to move his left arm, to hold her, but found he couldn’t. He could see black tendrils down his arm almost to his fingers and then across his chest. “I was poisoned.”

She nodded. “Stabbed and poisoned. Your lung collapsed. Maester Jueten fixed it. But then we noticed the poison was moving. I’d seen it before, knew the name. He had the remedy,” she said softly, then shook her head. “You bled a lot.”

He frowned. “My arm? Will I be able to use it?”

She nodded. “It’s already receding. It was down into your fingertips.”

He pulled her closer with his right arm and she moved to lie her head on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She huffed out a breath and nodded. “I’m fine. You’re awake so I’m fine.” She lay beside him and pressed her lips to his. “How do you feel?”

“I hurt.”

At that, she frowned and lowered her head. “I didn’t see her there. Not until you were falling to the floor,” she whispered. “They found Mary and Natasha’s faceless bodies in their rooms. The Maester thinks they’ve been dead for only a day.”

He shook his head. “To experience what they did only to die and be used...”

Arya frowned. “You know I did that. I did it to Walder Frey. I took faces...”

Gendry shifted in the bed and she put a hand on his chest. “This is so fucking frustrating!” he looked up at her and tugged her against him with this other hand, sighing. “I know what you did and why. Walder Frey was a monster. His whole house. You put an end to them after they killed your mother and brother. I don’t think badly of you for that.” He drew in a careful breath. “But we saw Mary and Natasha in our solar tell us what happened to them. Knowing that, it pains me they were hurt further.”

She nodded. “Ser Farring saw to their bodies. Harry and Peeta helped him.”

He looked down at her curled against him. “I had some interesting dreams while I was out.”

“You remember them?” she asked, lifting her head. “You seemed to squirm more at some points. I thought maybe you were dreaming.”

“I dreamed about my father, Stannis, and Renly.”

“What about them?”

He sighed. “I don’t really know. It felt real. Like they were really there. My father questioned me about my love for you. Told me I would be what he and his brothers couldn’t. I thought for a long time that I would never want his good opinion of me.”

She trailed her fingers over his chest. “And now?”

“I don’t think I need it. But it felt good to hear.”

“My father would have liked you, I think. I know you met him, but if he had known you, he would have liked you.”

He shook his head. “Not so sure about that. I mean, the one time I met him, he told me I did good work, but at the same time, I’m still a bastard even if Jon did...”

Her fingers on his lips made him look at her, a frown playing at her mouth. “He would have liked you because I like you. You are the only one for me, Gendry. The only man I could ever want and it’s because you know who I am, the good and the bad, and you love all of it.” She shook her head. “I almost lost you.”

Her voice was so soft at the end he barely heard her. “But you didn’t,” he said against her hair. “We’re here and together. I love you.”

She lifted her head and his heart actually hurt to see tears in her eyes. “I love you, too, Gendry.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and curled around him.


	14. Chapter 14

Gendry XIV

Chapter Summary

Gendry is feeling better. Lord Selwyn announces his departure for Winterfell. A letter from Bran shines a light on their most recent problem and a traitor is revealed.

GENDRY

He opened one bleary eye followed by the other. The candles had dropped low, their light dim. He tried to move his fingers, relief flooding him as both fingers and hand moved when ordered. Looking down at them, he was still able to see the black tendrils of poison beneath his skin. He wondered how long they would last.

He rolled to his side to find Arya cuddle against him. “You awake?” he mumbled.

She shook her head and moved closer to him. “No.” He lifted his bad arm and traced his fingers over her face. She blinked her eyes open and stared at him, then took his hand in hers and smiled. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. “There's still some numbness in my elbow, but other than that, I’m alright.”

“And the wounds on your side?”

“They hurt, but I’ll live.”

She pressed her lips to his. “Yes, you will.”

“You saved my life,” he whispered into her hair.

“We’re even, now,” she returned, leaning up on her elbow and tracing her fingers over the black lines down his arm. She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Gendry. It’s why I came with you. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt and I could have been here to stop it. Or worse, they killed you.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “But we did stop it. The maester had the antidote and I’m doing better. I wish we knew who hired them.”

She snuggled closer to him. “So do I.”

“I had a dream while I was under. About you and I.”

She pressed her lips against his throat. “What were we doing?”

He smiled, the picture still clear in his mind. “You had put our son on the floor to show me he could walk. And when you stood, you had another baby in your belly.”

She lifted her head and looked at him, her grey eyes wide. “Oh?”

He nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were beautiful and grumpy,” he said with a chuckle. “But, you kept rubbing your hands over your belly and our son snuggled in my arms. That dream… that’s what made me come back. It’s what made me open my eyes because I wanted that to be our reality. And it never would be if I didn't wake up.”

She dropped her eyes to his chest, her brow wrinkled with worry. “I don’t know that I’d be a good mother.”

He ran his fingers over her cheek. “I happen to think you’d be wonderful. You take care of those you love. But it’s up to you. You know I won't ask you to do something you don't want.”

She leaned down and kissed him. “I love you. I love your faith in me, too.”

He pressed his lips to her brow, squeezing her tighter to him. “Arya?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you marry me?”

She tensed in his arms, but lifted her head to look at him, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She smoothed her fingers over his jaw and he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. The longer she took to answer, the more worried he became that she would refuse. She finally sighed. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “You’re what I want. My future is you.”

She huffed out a sigh and smiled. “My future is you, too. Yes, I’ll marry you,” she whispered and pressed her lips to his and his heart soared with happiness. She pulled back, her lips turned down in a pout. “It’s too bad you’re injured or we could properly celebrate.”

He chuckled. “I’m all stitched up. Come on, my she-wolf, don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

She smirked. “Nice try. I seem to remember you denying me over and over again when I was injured.”

“To be fair, one of the injuries was to your leg,” he reminded and slid his hand over her thigh, knowing without looking where the blade had gone in. She still bore a scar from it.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, gently at first, but the longer the kiss went on, the more frantic it became. She moaned against his lips and he guided her to straddle him. She sat up and grinned down at him before she pulled her tunic over her head. “It has been a week...”

He slid his hand over her body and cupped her breast, tweaking the hardened peak, and she bucked against him. Her fingers worked diligently and untied his pants, freeing his cock. He dropped his head back to the pillow and closed his eyes while she stroked over his heated flesh. He was unsure if he could watch her and not turn into a greenboy unused to the touch of a woman.

She shifted on the bed and his eyes flew open as she slid his cock inside her mouth. He relaxed against the pillows again and carded his fingers through her hair. She was going to be his wife. He felt such a swelling of love for her at that moment, he reached down and pulled her up to him. She stared at him in confusion and worry and he never wanted to see it cloud her eyes again. He kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers, claiming her. He felt so fierce and protective of her. He rolled them to his good side, hitched her leg over his hip, and slid inside her. With a moan, she gripped his shoulder, leaned back, and rolled her hips against his.

It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, being inside her was home. She was home. She was feisty, strong, intelligent, beautiful, and his love. She made everything else disappear.

He cupped the back of her head and brought her lips to his, kissing her as he thrust forward. Her fingers dug into his arse as she bit his lip. His wolf. Her bull. He traced along her throat and stopped at her pulse, feeling it thump against his tongue. The rapid beat calling to him. He licked, bit, and sucked at it, her movements growing erratic against him. He slid down her throat, the stubble of his beard leaving red tracks in their wake, and took a rosy bud into his mouth, teasing with teeth and tongue.

He felt her fingers brush against his cock and he reached down and pushed her hand away, stroking her the way he knew she liked. Soon, she was writhing faster, clutching at him harder, then she stilled. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing stopped for just a moment until she released the breath, her body shaking. Her walls clenched around him, pulling him tight. He buried his face in her neck as he kept thrusting, feeling it building at the base of his spine. The dig of her blunt nails into his lower back, the way she bit his lower lip and moaned his name, pushed him closer and closer.

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, a smile on her face, and he came, grunting her name. His beautiful, fiery warrior was his and would be his forever.

They lay entwined in one another until she kissed his lips and pulled away from him, though, she didn’t move off the bed. Instead, she lifted his arm and examined the bandages. He couldn’t see the wounds, but the look on her face was almost serene if she was even capable of looking that way. “No blood.” She sat back on the bed and brought her knees to her chest as she stared at him. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face and he couldn’t seem to make it go away. “You’re making me uncomfortable the way you’re smiling at me.”

“Would a scowl work better?”

She shook her head and smiled. “No. But, as uncomfortable as it makes me, I am very glad to see you smile.”

“It’s for you. You make me happy. I hope I make you happy.”

Her expression changed to one of concern. “Of course you do. How could you even doubt that?”

He shook his head and took her hand. “I don’t. Not really.” He paused, trying to think of the right thing to say, to assure her of his faith in them. “I love you. I want to be with you until my last day and I will do anything and everything to make sure you know that.”

She smiled and moved into his arms. “I believe you. I believe in you.”

*~*

The next morning found them in the hall, breaking their fast with their people. Lord Selwyn entered with his guard and both Gendry and Arya stood to greet him.

“My Lord, it is very good to see you,” Lord Selwyn said with a bow of his head.

“It is good to be seen, My Lord. Will you join us?”

“I would be honored. Though I must tell you, I have plans to leave this afternoon. I am going to ride to the harbor and take my ship to White Harbor then go on to Winterfell.”

Arya smiled beside him. “My brother and sister will be more than happy to welcome you. And I’m sure Brienne will be thrilled.”

Gendry offered him the seat beside Arya. “I want to meet her fellow, make sure he’s a good match for my daughter.”

He was struck mute, unsure how to actually convey what Tormund was. “I know he cares very much for her. I believe her squire said, once, that it was love at first sight for him.”

Arya nodded. “And believe me when I say that your daughter wouldn’t tolerate anything less than someone who treats her with the respect she deserves.”

Lord Selwyn gave them a small smile. “It fills my heart to hear you speak so highly of my daughter. I worried for a long time that she wouldn’t be able to find her way in the world, given how most people look down on women fighters.” He looked at the table and Gendry wondered what memory made him smile in such a way. He glanced at Arya and saw a smile on her face but it didn’t reach her eyes. He reached over and took her hand, knowing he would have time to ask her later. She squeezed his fingers as she sipped at her wine.

“So, tell me about Winterfell and your brother and sister, if you don’t mind.”

Arya turned her attention to him fully. “It would be my pleasure.”

*~*

They stood in the courtyard to see Lord Selwyn off, Arya asking him to deliver a letter to her sister, which he seemed more than happy to do. She missed her family, and it had been clear to see when she spoke of them earlier. He watched her as she looked around nervously, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

“I have the feeling someone is watching me. Us. Whether or not there are more Faceless Men in the keep, Melisandre is still here.”

He nodded, knowing she still had the desire to kill the woman, not that he would keep her from it. Arya doled out her own justice as she should.

The squawk of a raven sounded overhead and as Gendry watched it fly, it dived at them, flying in Arya’s face. Everyone in the yard was stunned, but he noticed the note tied to its leg and removed it. Its white eyes turned to the normally black hue and the raven dropped to the ground. Gendry squatted down to see about the raven only to realize it was dead.

“Bran,” Arya whispered.

One of the guards came and removed the bird as Gendry led her to their place on the cliffs, Harry and Peeta following them. They stood at the stone wall to keep anyone else from joining them. He held up the letter, it was addressed to her. She tore at the seal and read it softly to herself then turned and looked at him, her eyes clouded with rage.

“What does it say?”

“It’s about the Faceless Men,” she responded.

“Read it,” he whispered.

“ Arya,

I’ve had a vision and I know of Gendry’s injury and the Faceless Men in your keep. They were the only two, but you know as well as I that they will not stop until their job is fulfilled and they have captured their name or the person to pay them has died. Your traitor is Maester Juren. When I looked into his past, it would appear that he is the bastard brother of Robert, Stannis, and Renly. His father’s progeny from before his marriage to their mother. He wanted the seat of Storm’s End for himself but heard of one of Robert’s bastards still roaming around. Once he received word of Gendry being named Lord and being sent to Storm’s End, he sought out the services of the Faceless Men. He only saved Gendry’s life with the antidote because you threatened his life should Gendry die. He’s still intending to kill Gendry, and you. Be careful sister. More news from King’s Landing will reach you soon from Jon. Some of it good, some of it bad.

Stay safe.

Bran Stark”

Gendry frowned and shook his head. “A hidden Baratheon?”

“Gendry, he has access to us. We have to stop him.”

“We will. But...let me confront him.”

She grey eyes grew angry. “I was the one who nearly watched you die!”

“I know,” he said as he cupped her face. “I’m not saying you don’t have a right. But he’s my family by blood. He could have done this several ways and yet he chose our deaths. I want to know why.”

She shook her head. “Because he was greedy for power.”

“You’re probably right. But I still want to hear it from him.”

“And if you don’t.”

He shrugged. “He dies for being a traitor either way. Prepare a raven to send to the Citadel telling them we need a new maester and one to the Faceless Men telling them their client has been killed and it’s his name, not mine, they were given. Find out how much they were going to be paid and let’s make sure we pay them more so they don’t come after us.”

Arya nodded. “I will. Once he’s dead.”

“Come with me,” he said as he held his arm out for her to take. She did and they walked back into the keep.

*~*

Maester Juren entered his library, stopping abruptly at seeing Gendry seated in one of the chairs at the table, looking over the book of Baratheon lineage.

“My father never mentioned the fact he had Targaryen blood when he was trying to wipe out Targaryens,” he said to the man as he looked up. “The very thing that actually gave him a claim to the throne was the one thing he hated most in this world. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?”

The maester nodded. “I suppose, My Lord. Can I help you find something?”

Gendry shook his head and smiled. “I found it already. A lineage of House Baratheon.” He watched the man’s reaction. His face remained impassive if a little irritated. “You see, I had this dream while I was under. My father, Stannis, and Renly were all there. Told me I was the future of our house and would bring honor to its name. To be honest, it’s hard to believe that sometimes. I still feel like a bastard from Flea Bottom, no better than the muck on someone’s shoes.”

“People often underestimate bastards,” the maester said. “They can climb high if they have the ambition.”

“I always lacked ambition for power, I suppose,” he responded with a shrug. “I only wanted to live and own a forge. Never thought I would be the lord of a keep, betrothed to a lady of a great house, in command of people and their lives,” he said as he looked back at the book. “I do have a question.”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“There is a page in front of my father’s that’s blank.” He looked up. “That doesn’t happen anywhere else in the book. Do you know why?”

He could see the pulse jump in the man’s neck and his jaw twitch before he answered. “Some people believe, My Lord, that your father had a bastard older brother. Your grandfather's issue before he married your grandmother.”

Gendry tilted his head. “I haven’t heard that. Imagine that? I’d have family. A blood relative. An uncle.” He looked back at the book. “How much we would have in common. Both bastards, left in obscurity, forgotten by those who created us.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

He smiled at the maester, though he didn’t feel it. “I wonder if he’s still living? We could throw a feast, welcome him in as part of the Baratheon legacy. I could even write to the king and queen and ask that they legitimize him...”

“My Lord, that would negate you as Lord of Storm’s End,” he sputtered in surprise. Gendry was sure that the thought that one would be so generous and relinquish power probably never occurred to him.

He shrugged. “I never intended to be Lord,” he replied and frowned, knowing it was true. How his life had changed since Davos found him on the Street of Steel. “The king and queen asked this of me and I did it because I thought I could make people’s lives better. At least, better than mine had been.”

The maester didn’t say anything as Gendry flipped to the page after Renly and frowned. “You haven’t added me, yet.” The comment was meant to be casual, but when Gendry looked up, he narrowed his eyes. “Is it because you had no intention of letting me get very far in being Lord of Storm’s End?”

The maester looked up at him sharply. “I beg your pardon?”

He stood and took a step forward. “I know who you are. I know you’re my father’s older brother. A bastard like me...yet you’ve been hiding in plain sight. You had the opportunity to claim this keep as yours for years, tell people who you were, but you didn’t. Why did you wait?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the man stuttered.

The door closed behind him and he turned abruptly to see Arya.

“I don’t even need to ask her if you’re lying. You understand. You are my lost uncle,” he said softly. “So, tell me, why were you hiding? The castle had no Lord.” He took a step back from Gendry. “Who would believe me?”

“Given the Baratheon reputation, probably more than you’d think. You could have told me when we arrived. Did you think I would turn you away? Have you killed?”

“Yes. I was a threat to your claim,” he answered honestly.

“You decided to do it without getting your hands dirty, though. How did you know of the Faceless Men?”

“I lived in Braavos. Everyone knew of the Faceless Men,” he looked at Arya and Gendry, “I didn’t know they would kill Mary and Natasha. That was unforeseen.”

“You traded their lives for your own ambition,” Arya seethed. “And considering what they went through before...I hope it eats at you.”

“And what are you going to do to me?”

“You tried to have us both killed. You conspired with our enemies to see me and my lady dead. That’s treason.”

The door opened and Ser Farring, Peeta, and Harry entered. Ser Farring turned disgusted eyes on the maester.

“That seat is rightfully mine,” Juren hissed. “I demand a trial by combat, and I should be allowed to choose a champion.”

“And you would have them fight me?” Gendry questioned, though he wondered if he would be able to beat whoever it was that the maester chose. He wasn't fully healed.

He nodded. “Yes. To the death.”

“I know how it works. And who is your champion.”

“Gregor Clegane. I simply have to send a raven...”

“The Mountain isn’t available for combat. Raven from my brother arrived while you weren’t here. They took King’s Landing and the Mountain died at the hand of his brother, Sandor Clegane,” Arya said with a tilt of her head, holding up the scroll.

The maester looked panicked. “Ser Farring. We have known one another for years. Both kept here under Lord Stannis and Lord Renly. Surely you would fight for an old friend.”

“I don’t fight for murderers,” he spat. “Those two girls your assassins killed were innocent. Their blood is on you. I won’t do anything to help you.”

Arya clasped her hands behind her back. “It appears you have no allies. Do you still wish for trial by combat?”

He shook his head. “I do wish for a trial.”

“In front of the king and queen?” Gendry snorted. “I’m sure they would be quite receptive to a man who tried to murder the king’s sister and her betrothed.”

The maester suddenly pushed Gendry back and ran up the stairs, the soldiers, and Arya giving chase. Gendry followed until they came to one of the many open areas of the keep. The wind was fierce and harsh, rain pelting them. The man was cornered and Gendry stepped forward between his guards. “Surrender and your death will be as quick and painless as possible.”

Juren looked out over the ledge, then narrowed his eyes at Gendry. “I would have been a great Lord,” he said and jumped from the ledge. Everyone rushed to the edge. Gendry got there just as he hit the ground. He winced and stepped away.

Ser Farring turned to Gendry and shook his head. “I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t have known who he was. He was the maester the Citadel sent,” he replied. He turned to Harry and Peeta. “Fetch his body and make sure it is sent back to the Citadel.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Peeta answered and they left to do his bidding.

“Ser Farring?”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said softly. “That couldn’t have been easy for you.”

He was silent for a moment and then sighed. “It was not, My Lord. He has been my friend for a long time. However, I hired Natasha and Mary when they were young girls. They came here because their families had died during the war and they needed work. Natasha was twelve,” he said as he shook his head. “They were innocent. Abused by those men and then killed by assassins trying to get to you because of him. I mourn their loss.”

“I’m truly sorry. I heard you took care of their bodies,” Gendry said as he started down the stairs, Ser Farring following.

“I did. Juren helped. He was so upset over losing them, and I suppose now I know why.”

“Guilt,” Arya answered ahead of them.

Ser Farring frowned. “May I clean out his rooms, My Lord?”

“You may. Thank you, Ser Farring. I know I haven’t been here long, but I am happy to have you here to help us protect the people in this keep.”

He straightened, a proud look upon his face. “It is my honor, My Lord. You and your lady have proven to be people of character and good faith. I will serve you both, with honor, for the rest of my days.”

Gendry nodded. “Thank you.”

*~*

“I can’t believe Tyrion is dead,” he said with a sad tone as he reread the letter from Bran later that night. “I was certain he would be the Lannister that survived.”

“No, that would be Jaime. The sparkle in my sister’s eye,” she said as she came out of the bathroom and sat beside him on the bed. “I suppose, if he has any honor, which is doubtful, he’ll ask for her hand and they’ll get married at the sept at Casterly Rock.”

“She loves the North.”

“Sometimes there are things more important than a location.”

“Have I told you today how glad I am to have you?”

She shook her head and put the letter beside the bed and snuggled into him. “No, but I believe you showed me yesterday morning.”

He grinned. “You’re just damn sexy when you wear tunics like that. Hard to resist.”

“You keep up that sweet talk and I’m going to start wondering if maybe you’re a faceless man.”

Gendry looked at her. “When do you want to get married?”

“That killed that suspicion.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I’d like to send notice to my family. Jon, Sansa, Bran...”

“Maybe some of them can come.”

“Maybe. I know you’d like to do it sooner than that.”

He smiled. “But that’s just me wanting nothing more than you.”

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Can I ask you a question without you getting mad?” he asked.

“Depends on the question.”

“You didn’t have moon tea with your meal.”

She suddenly stilled and looked at him. Fear ran along her face. “I..I didn’t take it before your attack because it was poisoned. We currently don’t have any. They threw out the whole batch cause they thought the whole crate might be poisoned. Gendry...”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Whatever, or whoever comes, we will face it together.”

Arya XIV

Chapter Summary

Arya experiences nerves on the eve of her wedding about being a wife and mother. Arya and Gendry get married and travel to Winterfell for Bran's wedding to Meera.

ARYA

She came out of the en-suite to find Gendry standing on the balcony looking down at the city. She could see fires lit at the party for the coronation still raged on, and even in the homes spread throughout the city. Arya hated the way the city seemed to smell, even though the scent was partially covered up while in the Red Keep. She put a hand on his back and he turned to her, a dark look on his face.

“You alright?”

He frowned. “Just thinking about Flea Bottom. Wondering how much of what happened today they actually cared about? How much of what was left got to the people that truly needed it?”

She huffed out a sigh. “Probably not enough. But you know that Jon and Daenerys are going to try to make their lives better.”

“They’ll try. But it seems to me that the people at the bottom always get trampled on.” She tensed and was ready to defend her brother and he held up a hand. “I know. I do. I know Jon and Daenerys. I know that if anyone is going to accomplish that goal it will be them. I’ve just seen a lot of people not care.”

“That’s not who they are. That’s not who we are.” She cupped his cheek. “They’re already working to make things better. Both of them suffered through horrid pasts. I think if anyone can understand the plight of people who are stomped on it’s Jon and Daenerys.”

He nodded. “I know you’re right. I believe in them. It’s the rest of the world I doubt.”

“I believe the two of them will be able to accomplish great things. They're stubborn, determined, people love them, and they now have six dragons. Daenerys always talked about breaking the wheel that turns over people. I think they’ll do exactly what they claim.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s rare for me to be the pessimistic one and you to reassure me.”

She shrugged and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You left me no choice. Besides, I had a feeling that being back in the city would cause you to have some odd feelings.”

He snorted. “Counted on that, did you?”

“I know you, is all. It’s good that you remember what it was like to live like that. You can help make people’s lives better because of it.”

“Have I made your life better?”

She laughed and nodded. “Made me want things I thought I would never want.”

He kissed her lips this time and they started back toward the bed. “I want you,” he whispered.

She nodded and pulled his tunic over his head as he backed her up to the post at the foot. He pulled at the ties at the front of her shift and she pushed it off her shoulders to pool at her hips. His lips found the pulse in her throat as he pushed her shift completely to the floor. He chuckled against her skin.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked, tugging at the laces of his trousers.

“The perk of you wearing dresses is you never wear small clothes beneath them,” he finished the last word with a groan as she got his laces undone and had his cock in her hand. She licked at his lips before he took her mouth in another kiss, leaving her breathless as his hands slid sensuously over her body. She gasped when he suddenly lifted her from her feet to hold her against the bedpost. She wrapped an arm around his neck as he walked them to the mattress and climbed onto the bed. She wasn’t aware he had even removed his trousers.

He rolled to his back and she climbed on top of him, her knees squeezing into his sides as she pressed kisses to his neck. He tugged back on her hair and she gasped when she felt his teeth nip the pulse in her throat. She bit her lip and writhed on top of him, his hard cock trapped between them.  
He released her hips and stilled her, groaning against her skin. “You gotta stop that, Arya. We haven’t been like this since we left and I’m gonna spill like a green boy the way you’re moving.”

She leaned down to kiss him. “I suppose we could wait until we’re married tomorrow.”

“Fuck no,” he growled. “I want to be inside you.”

She pushed herself up and reached between them to grasp his cock. “I want that, too,” she said as spread the liquid from his leaking tip over him, then teased her little nub with it.

“Fuck sake, Arya! Mercy!” he said as he pressed his head back against the pillow and dug his fingers into her hips. She bit her lip as she ended their torment and guided him inside her. She rolled her hips against his, loving the way it always felt to have him inside her. She could feel the strength in his fingers, knowing he could guide her with his hands if he chose, but he let her set the pace.

She leaned forward, pressing her hands to the bed beside his head and began bouncing over him. His hands started exploring her skin. Each trail of his fingers leaving gooseflesh in its wake. She shivered above him lost in the feel of his hands, mouth, and body as they cherished her. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb pressed against the little nub. She threw her head back and went still as she crested against the edge then fell over it with the flicking of his thumb against her clit. She fell against his chest as she felt exhaustion in her bones and was barely cognizant of Gendry finishing.

With her head tucked between his chin and shoulder, she was nearly asleep when he rolled her to her side and he stood from the bed and went to the water basin. “What’re you doing?” Her words felt slurred and she tried to keep her eyes opened as he returned to the bed with a wet flannel in his hand.

“Seeing as you’re already falling asleep, I’m going to clean you up and then join you. It’s been a long day,” he muttered as he cleaned the mess from between her legs. The next thing she knew, the bed shifted and Gendry was pulling her closer to sleep in their normal position. She had dreams about hundreds of babies crying and she was powerless to stop any of them.

*~*

Davos had come by early in the morning to drag Gendry away from their cozy bed and to a different part of the castle. Jon showed up not long after to have her come spend the day with him and Daenerys. She really wanted to stay in bed and try to fight off the sickness she felt. Once her dress had been gathered and taken to their chamber, however, she was left with little option but to follow.

She felt miserable and promptly laid down on Jon’s bed and dozed for a little while. It wasn’t until Daenerys entered the room that the dragons squawked and woke her. She could see it was now midday and she had two royals staring at her with large smiles.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired and sick,” she admitted as she sat up and brushed down her hair. “Where did Davos take Gendry?”

“Don’t know,” Jon admitted. “He asked permission from us to not be our Hand today in order to be there for your future husband.”

“Naturally, we agreed,” Daenerys said as she sat on the edge of the bed beside her and Arya shook her head in amazement. “You can say it: I’m huge.”

“No...well, I mean, you have babies in there. Sansa told me there were two in a letter. But what does it feel like?”

Daenerys rubbed a hand over her belly and Arya stared at her with apprehension. “At first, like you feel now. Tired, achy, irritable, and sick. And then, one day, you feel this...little flutter. Gendry won’t be able to feel it for a while, but you feel it, and you know that it’s the baby. Like...butterfly wings flapping,” she said softly. “That gives way to actually feeling kicks and twists from arms and legs,” she said with a chuckle. “And you constantly have to relieve yourself and you’re always hot.”

“Occasionally cranky.” They both looked at Jon who was giving them a teasing smile.

“You hush. Have a human kick your bladder and see how great you feel.”

“No thank you. I’ll leave the childbearing to the stronger sex.”

“Oh! Sex is something you’ll crave! You won’t be able to get enough.”

Jon furrowed his brow. “When did we hit that phase?”

“We were on the road.”

“We could have stopped more often!”

“I’m going to be sick,” Arya groaned. They all grew quiet and she looked at her hands, afraid to actually give voice to her worries. “I’m afraid I won’t be a good mother.”

She could see Jon about to protest but Daenerys held up a hand and silenced him along with a look. “Tell me why you feel that way?”

She huffed out a breath and stood. “Because a part of me never wanted this. I’m a fighter, a trained assassin. This was...I thought this was more suited to someone like Sansa and the part of me that remembers growing up in her shadow doesn’t want the things that she wants. I wanted to defy all of that, be beyond it. I wanted to be better. But now I’m going to have all of the things I swore to father I would never want.”

“How old were you when you swore that?”

“Old enough that I remember the disappointment on his face when I said it. Even though he supported my sword training, he still thought I might fall in line and this would be my life.”

“Do you hate your life? Do you hate being with Gendry? Do you hate living in Storm’s End? Do you hate that you’re having a child or marrying him?” Daenerys asked.

She shook her head. “No. I love my life. I love him and this baby. I want to marry him because I love him. But is this it? All I’ll be? A mother and a wife?”

Daenerys frowned. “Is that what you think of me? A mother and a wife?”

She shook her head. “No. You’re the queen. A Targaryen Queen.”

“And you’re an assassin, a warrior, a sister, a daughter, a Stark, a lover. Being one of those doesn’t mean you have to stop being any of the others.”

“It’s just not what I expected.”

Jon took her hand. “None of us are where we thought we would be. By all rights, we should all probably be dead, but we aren’t. With you, Daenerys, Yara, Sansa, Meera, Brienne,” he said with a smile, “women are proving every day that they can exceed expectations and wield amazing power effortlessly. You will always be who you want to be, Arya. Even when you knew it was wrong, you still pushed against the world to make your own way. This is your way.”

She thought back on her conversation with Brienne all those months ago about how she was both a warrior and a woman who loved a man. She could be both. “Alright, enough trying to convince me,” she muttered. “Just tell me one thing.” Daenerys nodded for her to continue. “tell me I’ll stop being sick soon.”

Her good-sister chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, I wish I could. Unfortunately, every woman is different.”

“Great.”

*~*

Daenerys had a bath drawn for her and she sent Jon from the room to find Gendry. When she got out of the bath, she found her dress spread out over their bed with the other woman holding two of the dragons, another curled on her shoulder and the one named after her on the table playing loudly with a goblet.

A knock at the door and Arylion looked up from her playing as did the others. “Who is it?”

“Missandei,” called the soft voice.

“I’ve asked her to help you get ready. I would but I get winded easily.”

Arya nodded and Daenerys bid her enter.

“Arya,” Missandei greeted her.

“Missandei,” she said with a smile.

“Is this your dress?” she asked as she gestured to the grey one draped across the bed. “It’s similar to the one Sansa made for you.”

“I like the cut of that one so I had a similar one made.”

The dark dress was lined with fur, paying homage to her family and their love for wolves. It wasn’t typical colors for a wedding, the dress black with gold trim. “It’s beautiful,” Daenerys said with a smile. “I did note one thing, though. You didn’t bring a shift.”

Arya smiled and looked at her sister. “Actually, the boning in the dress and the thick fabric doesn’t require one.”

Missandei and Daenerys shared a smile. “Well, a surprise for Gendry.”

She shrugged. “It’s one of the reasons he likes it when I wear dresses.”

Daenerys chuckled. “I think you’ll be perfectly happy in your marriage.”

Arya allowed Missandei to do her hair, keeping most of her hair down and a braid on the top. She somehow managed to curl the ends. A light plate of food was brought in for her, but she only picked at it and paced more.

Daenerys stopped her mid-stride. “Stop,” she said softly. “You need a distraction.”

“That would help.”

She held up the purple dragon that tilted its head to the side as it looked at her. “Help me feed them,” she said with a smile. Arya cautiously took the dragon from her and watched as Daenerys brought a candle over to the table to a plate of raw meat. “They are almost able to create their own flame, but it hasn’t happened yet.” She pushed Arya into a chair and then put the green dragon on the table.

She put the raw piece of meat in front of them. “Watch this,” she said with a smile. “ Dracarys .” The little green dragon tilted its head at her and looked at the meat. She nodded to Arya to put the purple dragon down. She did and both dragons looked up at their mother. “ Dracarys .”

Arylion puffed out a breath of smoke and Sansax did the same, but neither produced flame. She frowned as she watched both dragons struggle and then after a few more attempts, Daenerys lit a small stick and put fire on both pieces of meat. Once it was cooked, the dragons gobbled it up.

“How do you know how long to let them try?”

She shrugged. “Well, I could see that even through the smoke, it was white. White smoke means nothing is burning which means they aren’t producing fire. But I want them to practice doing that anyway as they need to learn what to do.”

Arya looked up at her and frowned. “How old were the others when they started producing flame?”

She took a deep breath. “Seems like a lifetime ago. Two moons?”

“So, they’re almost that age.”

She nodded. “They are.” Daenerys was silent for a moment and then she put a hand on Arya’s arm. “I wanted to tell you that...I worry about being a mother, just as you do. It terrifies me and I don’t feel like I’m ready for it even though it’s something I wanted. I had simply come to terms with never being able to have children and so it was something I quit letting myself believe in.”

“But you’re the mother of dragons.”

She chuckled and looked at the two dragons in front of them. “People call me that, and I suppose they do listen to me, but dragons do what they want. Anything they do for me or anyone else is only by suggestion. I lost my first son. Never got to hold him in my arms. I worry about that with these two constantly. I’ve had dreams that I hear them crying and I’m running, looking for them, and when I find them they melt in my hands.” She shook her head. “I know dragons. I know how temperamental they can be, how dangerous, how loyal. But...a baby is different. It’s a person I have to raise to be a light of good in this world. Someone I have to love and protect but allow to grow and flourish. But the thought of that being taken from me...is sometimes crippling.”

Arya listened and wished she had the words to ease her fears. Daenerys would make a great mother and she knew that those children would never want for love or affection from either parent. “Have you talked to Jon?”

She nodded. “Yes. He tells me I’m worrying about nothing.”

“Gendry tells me the same thing.”

“It’s hard for them to understand because they love us. And in your case, being a mother was probably only abstract at best. But I think every woman deals with the fear of not being good enough or failing her children somehow.”

“Do you think...I know you don’t know me well...”

“Arya, if you’re going to ask me if I think you’ll be a good mother then let me interrupt you and say ‘absolutely’. You love your family. With an almost alarming amount of intensity,” she said with a smile. “You may not be like Sansa or me but you’ll find your own way that works for you and Gendry.”

“I’m not used to being afraid or uncertain. Not anymore. This has just...spun me dizzy. I don’t want to let anyone down, especially not Gendry or my child. It even feels strange to say.”

“I can’t make the fear go away. I wish I could. But I have faith in you. Gendry obviously has faith in you. Jon...it goes without saying. But you’ve managed to make your own path to being not only a fighter but someone’s lover. You’re going to marry him in a few short hours. You’ll find how to do this, too.”

She stroked her hand over Arylion’s back. “Let’s hope so.”

*~*

“You need to wear your crown,” Daenerys was arguing with Jon who had his arms crossed over his chest as Arya sat in a chair and watched the battle of wills that was currently being waged between the king and queen.

“No. It’s my sister’s wedding. I don’t need to wear it.”

She huffed out a breath. “You’re the king. At certain events, you need to wear it.”

“I’ll leave it up to Arya.”

She was suddenly aware of being caught in the middle. She could see both sides. Daenerys wanted Jon to present himself as King to make it easier for others to see him as such. Jon didn’t like the pretentious air, though Arya felt like he would need to get used to that. “I don’t care.”

Jon narrowed his eyes a bit and she nearly laughed that she could read him so easily. Traitor . “I’m not wearing it.”

“Jon Snow, you are the bloody king. More people than just us will see you. Put on that crown or so help me I’ll let the dragons sleep in the bed with us!”

He wrinkled his nose and groaned. “Fine. But only for the wedding. That thing goes back in its box when we’re done.”

Daenerys gave a nod and walked away from Jon as he grumbled and put the crown on his head. Arya pressed her lips together to keep from outright laughing at the petulant look on his face. “You could have taken my side.”

Arya shrugged. “She has six dragons at her command and she’s pregnant. You're my brother. I thought it best to stay out of it.”

Arya stood and walked to the balcony watching the sun dip beneath the horizon. She felt like she had butterflies in her stomach the size of Drogon. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She knew that Gendry was hers for the rest of their lives. She was his. This was merely a formality.

Jon came to stand beside her as the sky slowly transformed. “Nervous?”

“A little.”

“I keep worrying that I’ll forget what to say and ruin your wedding.”

Arya leaned her head against his shoulder. “You asked me once if marriage was something I wanted and I told you 'no'.”

“You were only eight, I believe.”

“But I actually believed it. Now, it just feels...I love Gendry. I know I’ll spend the rest of my life loving Gendry. It’s all the other stuff that makes it seem surreal.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder at Daenerys who was singing to the dragons as she made sure their cages were latched. “I probably shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in love with her. I shouldn’t be married, having babies, or a bloody king. Sometimes it feels like a bizarre dream and I’ll wake up freezing on the Wall again. But, if that was the case, then I’m going to live this out to the fullest and not take any of it for granted.”

“You were nervous the day you got married if I remember correctly.”

He nodded with a small smile. “I was. But not because I questioned my feelings or that this was what I wanted. I worried that I wasn’t good enough. I still feel that way, often, but she wants to be with me and I trust her judgment.”

“I sometimes worry that Gendry will want something else. Or someone else. I’m not a proper lady. I never will be.”

“And do you think that’s what Gendry wants?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “He loves me. I know that. But, I still feel like I’m not good enough. Perhaps it’s all the years that Septa Mordane chastised me and told me I wasn’t good enough, nothing like Sansa.”

“You’ve always been different than Sansa, but that doesn’t mean bad. Besides, I’ve seen how you and Gendry are with one another. There is real love there, and I know for a fact he was dealing with the same doubts about you that you are now.”

“Did he say something?”

“Overheard his conversation with Davos. He’s worried that he’s not worthy of you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You both are. Completely in love with one another and full of doubt.”

The knock on the door sounded and Missandei stuck her head inside. “Ser Davos asked me to tell you that they are going to the Godswood.”

Daenerys smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll walk with you, Missandei, and let Jon escort Arya,” she said as she hastily left the room.

Arya smirked. “Do you get to make any decisions?”

He snorted. “Does Gendry?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “When I let him.”

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Sounds to me like you already understand the concepts of marriage.”

*~*

Their walk to the Godswood was quiet, her hand tucked through his arm. She felt nauseated and wondered if it was the baby or nerves. Perhaps a combination of the two. She tugged on his arm to stop and he and his guard did. “What is it?”

“My stomach is rolling.”

“It’s nerves.”

“Could be the baby.”

“It could be. My guess though is that you’ll know for sure when you see Gendry.”

She smiled. “Right,” though his words didn’t ease her troubled mind. They walked down the stairs and found the path lit. There was no Weirwood tree, but they found them in the heart of the Godswood. The guard that had traveled with them from Storm’s End, Harry, Peeta, and Rhys were all dressed in finer clothes and stood to the side. Daenerys and Missandei were both beaming at her, the queen looking beautiful despite her hair being gone.

But then her eyes landed on Gendry who gave her a smile, his blue eyes shining in the light, and she felt the nausea subside. “It was nerves,” she muttered to Jon.

“Hush. Don’t make me forget my lines,” he mumbled back.”

They stopped in front of Davos and Gendry and she never took her eyes from the love of her life. “Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”

“Arya, of House Stark, a woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Jon asked with a smile.

“Gendry, of House Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End. Who gives her?”

“Jon Snow, of House Stark and Targaryen, King of the Six Kingdoms and brother.”

Davos smiled and looked at Arya. “Lady Arya, do you take this man?”

She nodded. “I take this man,” she said firmly. Jon moved to stand beside his wife and Gendry took his place beside her. He took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Forever.”

“Forever,” he said as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

*~*

Daenerys had arranged for their wedding meal to be held in a large solar. Arya was seated beside Gendry and he pressed his lips to the side of her head as she took a bite of cheese. She held it up to him as she chewed and he ate it from her fingers.

She gave him a small smile. “Do you realize that it’s been less than a year that we’ve reconnected?’

He tilted his head and smiled. “Well, I put us being here down to your persistence.”

“Only mine?”

“I believe you were the one that sparked all of this. You and your question .”

She chuckled and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “I had almost forgotten,” she said as she looked up at him. “And you thought I would ask someone else.”

“Ask someone else what?” Daenerys asked as she had suddenly taken an interest in their conversation.

Everyone was looking at them, waiting for an answer. She looked at Gendry and found the same panic on his face that she knew was on hers. “To escort me through the Godswood. When we reacquainted,” she lied.

Jon turned back to his conversation with Davos but Daenerys eyed her curiously. However, Arya had learned how to sniff out liars as well as how to be one. She kept a straight face. Gendry had smartly brought his goblet up to his lips to slowly sip at his wine. She knew he was hiding a smile. Daenerys, however, turned back to Missandei, casting a sideways glance at them both.

Arya looked at Gendry who was staring at her. “If I look at any of them I’m going to start laughing,” he admitted.

“If you start laughing, I’ll start laughing.”

“We can’t have that,” he said as he reached into his plate and held up a grape for her, which she took. “I love you. I hope you know how much.”

“I do. I sometimes don’t believe it.”

“ You ? I’m a bastard from Flea Bottom,” he whispered. “Even when we were running away from King’s Landing all those years ago, when I found out who you were, I knew then I would be reaching too far to have you.”

“Which is why I always called you stupid . No more of that ridiculous talk. We’re both where we’re supposed to be. Together.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. His hand smoothed over her tummy and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I love you. Completely. Forever.”

She nodded. “This is getting too emotional,” she complained, though, and tried to fight back the irrational tears that stung her eyes. “Say something outlandish to make me forget about how sweet this moment is,” she urged.

He tilted his head for a moment, lost in thought. He suddenly smiled and it nearly worried her with how devilish it looked. He leaned into her ear, “Tell me that I can expect your tradition with dresses holds true with this one, as well.”

She pulled back from him and shook her head with a laugh. She bit her lip then kissed his cheek. “It’s tradition.”

*~*

Once in their room, they wasted little time in helping one another out of their clothes. She had him promise on the way to the room not to rip the dress apart as he had done at Jon and Daenerys’s wedding. He hadn’t said anything, but she warned him that she would call a handmaiden in to help her take it off if he wouldn’t promise. He finally rolled his eyes and nodded.

The dress remained a crumpled lump on the floor beside Gendry’s clothes and boots. She still had her shoes on and as she had been pulled onto the bed by her husband she forgot about them. He rolled to his back and pulled her to her knees over his face. She gasped at the feel of his tongue sliding along inside her folds. She gripped the headboard to keep her upright as she looked down at him, his bright eyes shining with mischief as his hands slid over her thighs, hips, waist, and up to her breasts. Her hips undulated against his probing tongue and before she knew it, she was falling over the edge, crying out his name.

He moved from beneath her as she still braced herself against the headboard. His lips moved over her shoulder and neck as his hands wrapped around her from behind. She leaned back against him, rubbing her bottom against the length of his erection, glad to hear a grunt from him in return.

She felt him push against her entrance and then he was encased inside her. Her head fell back to his shoulder. His lips traced along her jaw as he made quick thrusts inside her, his hands sliding over her bare skin. He cupped her breasts in his hands, pinching the hardened peaks between his calloused fingers. She began thrusting back, meeting his hips with hers, making both of them groan. One of his hands slid down her stomach to her cunt and she waited for the feel of him touching her. She was nearly ready to grab his hand and put it where she wanted when he touched her outer folds. “Gendry,” she moaned as he touched the tiny nub and she felt like her entire being had exploded throughout the room.

She saw stars behind her closed eyes, holding herself upright with an arm braced against the headboard, but she knew that she was really still being held up by his strength. Her stubborn bull. Her great love. Her body was still clenching around the thrust of his cock when he pulled her hips against his hard. She leaned her head against his as he came, emptying himself inside her.

They slowly shifted in the bed a few minutes after that, they lay facing one another. She smiled at him and tilted her head. “I don’t suppose you’ll help me get my stockings and boots off.”

He groaned. “You want me to move after that?”

“Only if you want me to be comfortable.”

He playfully groaned and sat up. She watched him unlace her boots and toss each one to the floor, followed by her short stockings. His fingers traced over her leg from her ankle to her thigh. She shook her head and smiled. “How could you ever think I would ask anyone else to show me?”

He smirked and placed a kiss on her belly. “I’m a great fool. Forgive me.”

“I did a long time ago,” she whispered. “I’m glad we’re here together.”

“So am I. Especially with all that’s happened. It feels like we barely made it out of all that.”

He placed another kiss on her belly, then joined her on their pillows. “To be fair, it was barely . But that’s all that matters. We’re here, alive, together. That seems more important than worrying about all the stuff that could have happened.”

She smiled at him and nodded. “It is. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. I hope you know that.”

“Well, you haven’t killed me, so I take that as a good sign.”

She placed a kiss on his shoulder and pushed him to his back. “Are you thinking that you’ve had enough for the night?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m up for whatever you are, my wife.”

She tilted her head at him. “Say it again.”

“What? My wife?”

She nodded. “It’s bizarre to hear that said to me.”

“Do you want me not to say it?”

She shook her head and moved to sit beside him. “I was telling Jon and Daenerys earlier that I never thought I would be here. I never thought that I would be someone’s wife or mother. It was something that Sansa had always wanted and a part of me, the jaded part that hurts when I look back on the past, thought that everything she wanted was stupid.” He sat up and faced her. “It still feels so foreign to me to want any of those things that I feel like...I’m going in circles in my own mind.  
Fighting against the memories of the past for the promise of the future.”

“Do you wish we hadn’t married?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion and she hated that she made him doubt all of this.

“No! I said yes to marrying you because I love you and I want to spend my life with you. I want to be at your side forever. I’m simply battling expectations of what I thought I wanted and what I actually want. And I want you. I want our baby.”

He pulled her into his lap and pressed his lips against hers. “I love you. I think you know that by now. I love our life together. Even with all its twists and turns. I wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s how this works. We’re equals in this.”

“You’re going to make me cry and you know how much I hate to cry.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I do. No crying. Not tonight,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her again.

*~*

Jon and Daenerys were standing on the docks with them as their horses were loaded onto one of the ships in Yara’s fleet. She had offered it to them as a wedding gift to take them North. Arya smirked to see that Jon was wearing his crown. She could see how Daenerys would talk him into it this time as they were being seen by onlookers from the kingdom.

“It feels like we say goodbye far too often,” Jon said to Arya as he pulled her into a hug.

“It simply means we get to say hello soon. I’ll see you for Bran’s wedding.”

He nodded. “You will.”

Arya turned to Daenerys. “And we’ll be coming back this way when we go home to Storm’s End.”

“Hopefully there will be a baby or two that Aunt Arya can cuddle.”

Arya smiled. “I like the sound of that. Aunt Arya.”

“Thank you for letting us get married,” Gendry said as he held out a hand to Jon.

He shook his head. “Did you really think I would say no ?”

“No, but thanks just the same.” He turned his attention to Daenerys. “I hope that those cuddles extend to an uncle as well.”

“Oh most certainly,” she said with a smile. “I hope your next visit is longer.”

“It will be,” Arya said with a nod. “You two take care of each other and be safe.”

“You as well,” Jon said. “Safe travels and I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Arya and Gendry stepped onto the ship and she watched as Daenerys and Jon gave a wave as they set off from the docks. Gendry spoke with the captain as she leaned against the railing. Eventually, they turned away from the boat and greeted their people who were waving back at them. Soon they were far enough away from King's Landing that they couldn’t make out people any longer, just the large Keep that stood atop the hill.

Gendry places a hand on her shoulder and it was then she realized she had tears streaming down her face. “Arya?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist as he held her securely in his embrace. “As much as it pains me to leave them it always drives the point that you’re my family, now.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You have always been my family,” he said softly. “Besides, we’re going North to see your brother and sister. You’re going back to Winterfell. You didn’t think you’d get to do that for years.”

She nodded. “You’re right,” she said as she looked up at him and sighed. “Ship will be faster, too.”

“Yeah, not as fast as a dragon but fast,” he smiled. “I hate to see you cry.”

“I think it’s the baby. I’ve been doing it too often for it to be anything else.”

“Of course. It’s the baby,” he said with an indulgent smile. “Not that seeing your family or even leaving your family brings out your emotions.”

“Stop teasing.”

“Oh, but I love to tease you,” he said with a smile. “In any manner you’ll let me.”

She placed a kiss on his lips. “You’re a bad man.”

“Yes, but I’m yours.”

“Forever.”

He gave a nod and another smile.

*~*

Their horses created the hill and Winterfell stood proud against a snowy backdrop. She could almost hear the sigh of relief of the others that had traveled with them as they saw it, too. Arya set her horse off at a steady run, the others following behind them, the Baratheon banners flying in the crisp air.

The closer she got, the harder she wanted to push her horse, but soon realized that the others were a good deal behind her. She stopped and waited for them to catch up and Gendry was smiling at her. “You could have gone on without us.”

“I didn’t want to,” she argued and as they came out of the woods and to the keep, she felt at peace for the first time since they had left Jon and Daenerys at the Red Keep. They entered through the gates and Sansa, Bran, Brienne, Tormund, and Podrick all stood outside to greet them. There was a dark haired girl beside Bran and she assumed that was Meera. Arya dismounted quickly and rushed to her family, hugging Sansa first. It was then she noticed Selwyn Tarth standing nearby, a small smile on his face.

“Arya,” her sister sighed. “It’s so good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home,” she said as she stepped away. Gendry has come up behind her and Sansa even stepped forward to give him a hug. Arya turned her attention to Bran. “I knew I would return to Winterfell, one day, but never for these circumstances.”

“I like to keep people guessing,” he said as they embraced. When they pulled away, he took Meera’s hand. “Arya, this is my fiancé, Meera Reed.”

Arya held her hand out and Meera shook it. “So glad to finally meet you. I get told by people all the time that I remind them of you.”

“I don’t know if you should be insulted by that,” Arya japed, but Gendry stepped in.

“It’s obviously a compliment. Gendry Baratheon,” he said as he kissed the back of Meera’s hand.

“I’ve had your old room made up for you. We’ll have a family dinner later where we can all catch up. A lot of things to discuss,” Sansa said with a smile.

“Thanks. Can you see that our things get to our rooms? There’s something I want to do before I go.”

“Of course. I’ll have a bath drawn for you," Sansa offered.

She nodded and took Gendry by the arm and pulled him away and to the Godswood. “What are we doing?”

“There wasn’t a Weirwood tree in the King's Landing Godswood.”

She pulled him to stand in front of it and he looked up at the trees red leaves. “Will you promise to love me forever?”

He turned his gaze to her abruptly. “Yes.” Realization dawned on his face and his expression softened. “Will you promise to love me forever?”

“Yes. I take you, Gendry.”

He stepped forward and kissed her, his hands resting on her waist. “I take you, too. Forever. I swear it.”

She leaned up and kissed him again, feeling lighter. “I love you,” she whispered. “Only you. Forever.” She kissed him again and it grew harder to break away. “Come on. Let’s go to our room and have that bath. And sometime while we’re here we’re going to push everyone out of the forge and we’re going to fuck there.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “As m’lady commands.”

“I’ll hit you,” She grumbled but still smiled, happy to be at her family home with her husband.

Chapter End Notes

So, the next chapters are Sansa, Meera, Bran, Jon, Dany, Jaime, Gendry, Arya.


End file.
